The Key to Happiness
by Zamire
Summary: After her father, Ned Stark died, Arya fell into a pit of despair, and has only just started getting out of it. Gendry doesn't know what he wants, let alone what he wants to be. When Arya moves in with Jon and his rather stubborn roommate, things change for both of them. GendryxArya Modern AU
1. Chapter 1

**Edited 8/8/13**

**A/N: **I was honestly so unsure as to whether I should post this or not…but I need something to vent my Gendrya feels. Season 3 has just been a rollercoaster of emotions…and I just can't stand to watch it. So I decided to write this modern AU fic to…vent…and prove the fact that they _are_ perfect together.

I hope you enjoy!

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**- The Key to Happiness -**

**- Chapter 1 -**

Arya Stark stared outside the car, idly watching the world go by quicker than she would have liked. She didn't mind the silence, as it had been her friend for many years. It was nice to see the world again, after all even though it was slightly daunting. The amount of days which Arya had spent in the hospital was countless, yet now she was out and her mother had demanded her to go back to Winterfell, to Jon and Robb and Theon. To old memories that she doubted would never stop haunting her.

"I think it'll be good for you," Catelyn Stark had said, with tears and regret in her eyes. The conversation had been in the hospital, a few days before she was about to leave. That day hadn't been a good one for her, like many others before that.

"No," Arya snapped harshly, "it won't. You don't find it easy to even _look_ at Winterfell when you visit Edmure, so why would I find it easy to _live_ there?"

Yet in the end Catelyn had convinced her live with Jon, who was her half-brother and his roommate. Jon had assured her that he was extremely nice and would understand. _Understand what?_ Arya wanted to demand at the time, but she didn't. If there was one person who she trusted in the entire world, it was Jon, who she loved even more than her father. _Had loved_, Arya corrected herself dimly, even though it still hurt to think about. It would always hurt, though, she knew. There would be a hole where Ned Stark had been, a hole she doubted that could be ever filled.

After she had left the horrible and restraining hospital, her mother had driven her home to pack her things. Arya had hated it, sorting through old clothes and toys that she hadn't touched before _he_ died. She could remember memories in most of them, even in the smallest things like a worn down top. It hurt most when she came across some of his old shirts that he had once given to her. Either way, she had swiftly swallowed down the lump in her throat, not wanting to cry in front of her ever worried mother. Arya had never really been close to her mother. It had always been her father who she would go to for problems. Even if she would have had boy problems - which she never had - she would have still gone to Ned.

"Sansa will be taking you," Catelyn had told her, folding a particularly nice pair of jeans that she had once worn to her father's birthday dinner. "She's coming down from Highgarden especially."

Arya wanted to ask why, but she didn't. Sansa and her weren't exactly on the best of terms. Arya knew she had been a paranoid bitch for the few weeks she hadn't been in the hospital after Ned died. _I won't apologise, though._

"I also…I didn't know if I should've…" her mother began slowly, "I enrolled you in the university."

"Wasn't I already enrolled? I thought Tyrion Lannister taught my mythology class," Arya replied coldly, clearly displaying her opinion of the man.

"He does."

"_Does_?" Arya echoed and when she realised she wanted to crawl back to the hospital and stay there for a few more weeks or even better, forever. "So I'm still doing the same classes?"

Catelyn Stark pursed her lips and nodded. "I thought it would be good for you." Her mother had smiled sadly after that, as if she knew everything about what Arya had been going through.

Arya sighed wearily. Even thinking about her conversation with her mother before leaving made her feel tired all over again. The closer she got to Winterfell, the more she hated the idea of attending university. After Ned Stark had died, she missed so much school that the teachers had eventually given up on her, even going as far as to sending her to sick bay every lesson. Even when Arya did go to school, she couldn't concentrate, and would often sit at the back with her head in her arms. Lommy and Hot Pie had done their best to comfort her, yet she grew to loathe their company. It had been a blessing to her when Catelyn announced that they would be moving to Riverrun, though a curse when her mother had forced her to go to hospital after various incidents once they arrived.

At Riverrun it had been no better. For the short time she had stayed in the house with everyone, Arya had felt awful as she watched her family slowly crumble while she watched emotionlessly, not feeling any compassion or any need to comfort her family. The worst part was everyone _continued_ to do everything, while Arya couldn't. There was no energy to get up out of bed and do anything. So she stayed at home, inside, left alone with her thoughts and silence. It was almost annoying that Sansa had it worse, because of Joffrey Baratheon. Yet Sansa Stark had taken it all in her stride while Arya had been sent to hospital.

Now, as Arya watched her sister drive them both to Winterfell, she couldn't help but note that Sansa was the one better off, the one who didn't have hollow cheeks and dull eyes. Her sister had moved to Highgarden after awhile of staying in Riverrun, moving in with Margaery Tyrell and her brother Loras.

"Why are you staring?" Sansa asked quietly, as they drove through the rain. It made Arya smile slightly to see the rain pouring down. She loved the cold, which was part of the reason why she had agreed to go back to Winterfell, as silly as it was. The cold was beautiful, the way the snow would whip her skin and the rain would wash away everything. When her sister saw that she wasn't going to respond, Sansa sighed. "Arya…" she began calmly.

"Don't," Arya interjected sharply. "You don't need to say anything."

"You know that's not true. I do need to say something…you look like you're going to cry if I don't."

"Do not."

Her sister smiled slightly and yet again Arya felt a pang in her chest as she was reminded that Sansa was the prettier one, the one who caught all the boy's attention. Theon Greyjoy, her older brother Robb's best mate, had always said so. Then again Theon had dated Sansa for a period of time, which was something Arya didn't particularly want to remember. _He's better than Joffrey,_ she thought, _anyone is, after what he did to Sansa_. Joffrey Baratheon, the son of her father's closest friend, had been the worst thing to happen to them, other than the asshole's father who she just couldn't forgive. _He's dead now, though,_ Arya thought.

When Robert Baratheon had died, his will demanded that Ned Stark take over Baratheon Corporations. Naturally, his beautiful and rather nasty wife Cersei Lannister had refused, stating that Joffrey was the rightful 'heir', as she called it, to Baratheon Corporations. At that time, Arya thought nothing of it and simply continued going to high school and preparing for university. Yet the stress took hold of her father, or at least that's what Catelyn claimed. Sometimes, Arya swore that Sansa gave subtle hints that it wasn't just stress and everything else that ended their father's life, yet she had never looked into it. How could she, when it even hurt to think about him?

Soft snow was beginning to form on the side of the road, a clear sign that Winterfell was approaching. Arya found herself gazing at the scruffy address written on a piece of paper. It would soon be her home, though she somewhat doubted that. The only home she would ever know was the one when her family had been _whole_. Even so, the idea of moving in with her half-brother was pleasant. Jon had promised her that there was another room in the house he shared with a mate and that the mate could cook.

"Cook?" Arya had repeated on the phone, when she heard, unsure how to reply. It had been the first thing he had mentioned, oddly enough.

"Yeah, he's not the best," Jon told her, "but he's better than me…and _certainly_ better than you."

When her brother had said that, she offered him a quiet and forced laugh. She had felt his smile through the smile. That was how it was when she laughed or even _smiled_. Her family would look all proud and pleased even though sometimes Arya just faked it to reassure them that everything was fine. Everything _was_ fine, though. It was normal to be upset when an extremely close and kind and considerate and amazing family member had died. It was normal to sometimes be incredibly upset when your family was falling apart.

"We're nearly there," Sansa said suddenly and when Arya looked out of the window she saw it was true. Houses had appeared, some small and others big and light snow was beginning to fall slowly. They were driving on the freeway which connected quite a few parts of Westeros together. Part of her wanted to peep out the window and see if she could see the big, empty building that had once been Stark Manor.

It took them several more minutes to reach Jon's house, which was on the far side of Winterfell, near the weirwood. When they arrived, Arya stared at the house for awhile, even after Sansa got out of the car. _This is your home now,_ she told herself as she got out of the car and dragged her luggage out. The door was already open when Arya reached the front step and Sansa was talking to Jon politely, clearly tense. Jon and Sansa weren't exactly _close_.

"She's got all her stuff here, so…" Her sister seemed unsure how to continue which was understandable. Sansa Stark had always hated their half-brother somewhat for what he had supposedly down to Bran.

"Little sister." Jon was smiling as he approached her, vaguely ignoring Sansa. He hugged her straight away, wrapping his muscular arms around her rather skinny frame. Arya hugged him back, feeling unsure. Sansa simply watched awkwardly, her hands clutched together tightly. "Let's get your stuff in," her half-brother said warmly. She watched as he effortlessly lifted the suitcase and carried it inside.

"Arya…" Sansa began but hesitated. "I hope you feel happier here," she said, and quickly hugged her.

"Thanks, Sansa," Arya said honestly, smiling a little. Her older sister nodded, before hurrying into the car. The engine started and Arya watched as the window wound down and her sister's hand sticked out, waving as she drove away. Arya waved back unsurely, watching the car leave. _This is it, them,_ she thought sadly. Jon appeared behind her a moment later, not letting her get lose in her depressing thoughts.

"Come inside, it's getting cold," he told her, patting her shoulder gently.

"Cold?" Arya said, frowning. "This isn't cold."

"You're a true Stark."

Arya said nothing and instead followed him inside the small apartment. The apartment was messy, but when she thought back to the time she had visited Robb and Theon's, it only made sense. There were dirty dishes in the dish rack and the rubbish bins were all filled with empty beer and dog food cans. To Arya's surprise, there were a lot of posters and photos stuck up around the walls. She spotted one of Jon with a dark haired and bright blue eyed man, standing in front of a building. They were both smiling, their hands forming thumbs up signs.

"Is that your room mate?" she asked, pointing to the photo. They looked like they were in King's Landing, which surprised Arya. She never expected Jon to be there, of all places.

"Yeah, he took me to King's Landing one time. His name's Gendry. Gendry Waters."

"He looks alright," Arya told him, mainly to please him and also because it was the truth. He did look quite nice.

Jon laughed before ruffling her hair. "Alright? That's a bit harsh, little sister. Now do you want to see your room or not?" Once she nodded, he led her up the stairs and on the second floor there looked to be four rooms, one of them a bathroom. Jon showed her his room, which had clothes everywhere and had the same items as it had when he lived with them – a few photos, some posters, his guitar and not much else. The other room, which was Gendry's, was fairly plain, except for the vast amount of clothes strewn across the floor.

"Do you guys know how to do washing?" Arya demanded sourly. Not even _her_ room ever looked like this.

"Not really," Jon admitted, laughing.

Her room was at the end of the floor, and was small yet…fine. It had a double bed, like Gendry and Jon's room, with a desk, dresser and mirror. Even though it contained nothing personal, Arya couldn't help but feel a slight pang of happiness as she went in and lay on the bed, closing her eyes and breathing in the smell. It smelt like washing detergent but in a pleasant way. She had never had her _own_ room, as Sansa and her had shared in Winterfell _and_ when they moved to Riverrun. Yet this was hers, all hers and she could do whatever she wanted with it.

"I got an email from Tyrion Lannister the other day," Jon said suddenly, sounding uneasy. Arya felt queasy simply thinking of her mythology professor. Tyrion had never exactly done anything daunting to her, but he was a Lannister. She ignored the fact that whenever she had eaten dinner with the whole Lannisters, including Tywin and Jaime, he had only made friendly quips about anything in general, never participating in any particularly nasty conversations.

"What did it say?" Arya asked, ignoring the thought that Tyrion could actually be _nice_. _He's related to Joffrey and Cersei and all __of them_, she thought coldly.

"Nothing much, just apologising about everything's that happened and asking if you were ready for this semester," Jon replied. "He was rather nice about it, I must say. He even apologised to me, even though he doesn't need to."

"Why couldn't he email _me_, not you?"

Jon laughed at her. "No one knows your email, little sister. Don't you remember?"

Yes, Arya did remember. She remembered telling Theon her email because he wanted to send her something. Then she had gotten all these stupid emails asking if she was single from his horny friends. She had never quite forgiven Theon because of that or a lot of other things. After that incident, Arya had changed her email extremely quickly and told no one except Lommy and Hot Pie. _Yet they're gone,_ she thought sadly. _Even though I might see them in Winterfell I doubt they'll ever want to speak to me._

Jon left her alone for the rest of the day and Arya spent it unpacking and reading the textbooks for mythology she had got in Riverrun from Catelyn. She didn't want to touch her graphics notes yet. Instead, Arya sketched a few designs for some characters of a game she had once started creating in her notepad to save for later. It had been years since she had worked on her game, for she completely stopped when Ned died. Now, though, it seemed only fitting to keep drawing up the designs as she was taking graphics in university.

Arya lost track of time as she began to sketch which was what usually happened. When she heard Jon shout her name from downstairs she started slightly. When she looked up it took her a moment to realise that the sun had set and it was dark outside. Jon was still shouting her name, claiming that Gendry was home and she should come and meet him. _Will he hate me?_ Arya thought vaguely as she packed up her art supplies. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she saw a tall and muscular man standing next to Jon, chatting happily. They both stopped their conversation when they saw her.

"You're Arya, right?" he asked, holding out a rather large hand and smiling at her.

"Who else would I be?" Arya retorted moodily and for a moment she saw Jon falter and smile. _It's because the 'old Arya' is showing, or whatever they call it,_ she thought. Truthfully, she had no idea where that retort came from. It had just happened. _It's because he's an idiot. Who would ask something like that? Who else would I be? _

Gendry frowned and smiled at the same time, withdrawing his hand. "Right, I'm Gendry Waters…you're brother's roommate."

She liked how he didn't say half-brother, yet she knew it was probably because it was a bit of a mouthful and no one really said that unless they meant offense to Jon. The only people she had known to do that were Sansa and Catelyn, though both of them had dropped the term after Ned died.

"What's for dinner?" Arya asked him, changing the subject rapidly even though it was obviously rude. She didn't care, though.

"Pasta," Jon told her, going to sit on the couch. "If you don't like it, order some pizza."

"Since when don't I like pasta?" she demanded.

Her brother rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure but you've always been fussy. Robb tells me all these stories about you eating when you were younger."

"Are you sure you're not mistaking Robb for Theon?"

Jon and Gendry laughed, which caused Arya to flush and she hurried upstairs. It felt weird, she realised, being around these two. She had never felt uncomfortable around Jon, yet…it was different this time. They both eyed her like she would break down at any moment and truthfully Arya _felt _like she would break down at any moment. She wanted Nymeria, yet her dog had mysteriously disappeared after Robert Baratheon died. Ghost, Jon's dog, was at Ygritte's, who according to Jon was looking after the dog. _Whoever Ygritte is,_ she thought sourly.

Arya stayed in her room, sketching more designs until Jon called her for dinner. They all sat on the couch, yet no one made any move to turn on the television. She found herself briefly remembering her mum lecturing them about watching T.V while eating. Surely Jon didn't care for that or Gendry? Yet the two men were beginning to talk about classes, something Arya didn't want to think about. _Why do people always seem to know exactly what you don't want to talk about and bring them up?_ she thought angrily.

"What classes are you taking, Arya?" Gendry asked, while chewing his food. She knew he was only trying to be nice but it still pissed her off.

She found herself wanted to lecture him on eating with his mouth open until she realised she simply didn't care. "Mythology and graphics," Arya told him sourly.

"I heard Tyrion Lannister's really good," he told her amiably, "if it makes a difference."

"It doesn't," Arya said shortly, a bit peeved that Jon seemed to have told bloody Gendry Waters everything. He didn't need to know her life story just because he was her roommate.

"It should," he said stubbornly, his jaw set, "and for graphics…I'm not sure of the teachers. I think Olenna Tyrell used to teach some of the arts."

"Nah, she quit," Jon interjected calmly, "not sure who teaches it now."

Jon and Gendry began to discuss teachers suddenly, leaving Arya to her own thoughts. She kind of liked listening to them argue and bicker and she realised that Gendry was as stubborn as herself, never shifting from his opinion. Arya found that she kind of liked that about him, if anything. It was probably the only thing going for him considering he was probably an idiot. _No, he is,_ she thought.

"Who's Ygritte?" she asked suddenly, interrupting their conversation. She had wanted to know this for awhile, ever since Jon had called her for the first time once she got out of hospital and told her about everything going on in Winterfell.

Her brother and his stubborn roommate exchanged glances before bursting out laughing, both of them grinning at each other.

"What?" Arya demanded fiercely.

"It's nothing," Gendry told her through his laughs, "it's just…don't you know?"

"_What_?"

"That Ygritte and Jon…are fucking?"

For a moment her brother stopped laughing to glare at Gendry, clearly disliking his language. Arya didn't care, though.

"You're _fucking_ this woman?" she asked angrily. "How come I didn't know?"

"Don't say it like that," Jon said, rolling his eyes, "but yes, I am. And you're my little sister...I'm not meant to tell you these types of things."

"When did you get so…_brave_ and not...scared of girls?"

"Since when has he been scared of girls?" Gendry interjected, clearly looking for a story or two.

For a moment Arya considered shutting them both out, telling them to grow up. She would then go to bed feeling sad and lonely, the way it usually was. Instead, she found herself wanting to say something. "He always used to turn bright red – look there he goes."

True to her word, Jon was turning bright red and he instantly turned away when he found both of them looking at him.

"Well, you don't see him come out of his room bright red with Ygritte," Gendry told her, laughing.

Jon began to protest, beginning a list of all the woman Gendry had supposedly fucked. It was clearly long, though by the look on Gendry's face it seemed to be completely bullshit.

"I don't want to hear it," Arya snapped yet she was smiling slightly. She got up and went to the small kitchen, leaving them to continue arguing about girls and who they have had sex with.

"There's a lot," Jon continued, ignoring her. "Seriously, little sister, if you think _I'm_ bad…"

"She was saying you were a blushing little boy, not some…" Gendry seemed at a loss for words.

"Man whore?" Arya offered, washing her plate. She could hear their conversation easily from the kitchen, as it was connected to the lounge. "I'm going to bed now, I've had enough of hearing who you two have slept with."

They both shouted various forms of good night at her as she climbed the stairs and went to her room. Arya began to get ready for bed, trying to hold onto the momentary happy feeling she had experienced while eating dinner. It had been small, very small, but she was meant to hold onto things like that. She got into the shower and stayed in there for as long as possible, letting the water slide over her as her thoughts kept becoming worse and worse as it always did. Most of the time things were fine when she was distracted, when she was with people. Yet at night or when she was alone...things just became horrible.

"It happens all the time," Arya remembered herself telling Jaqen H'ghar, her old psychologist. "I'm talking to someone…and suddenly everything's all great and I'm smiling…yet when I'm alone, I remember everything bad I've done, that my father's dead, that Sansa cries herself to sleep at night and I can barely function."

Jaqen had simply looked at her, with those weird eyes of his that Arya swore sometimes changed colour. "A girl is confused," he finally said.

"Yes, I am! Because I want to be happy, I want to be like my family, getting along perfectly fine. Instead I'm all stupid and pathetic and _weak_," she had told him angrily, annoyed at herself and everyone else.

"A girl isn't weak, simply…lost. Find a way to seek…happiness. A girl's _own_ way."

Yet Arya hadn't found her own way of happiness still, even after nearly eighteen months of talking to Jaqen who had been in Harrenhall, a bit of a drive from Winterfell. He was a good psychologist and all, even with his weird way of talking, yet sometimes she felt like _no one_ could help her. Even if she had stayed for him longer, even if they hadn't moved to Riverrun meaning she could no longer talk to him, she still doubted that someone could help her.

Arya felt like crying and suddenly she kept thinking and thinking as she dried herself with a towel, changed into her pajamas and went to bed. She kept thinking, remembering moments where she had yelled at Sansa cruelly, telling her sister that she was an idiot for going out with Joffrey and letting him do all types of horrible things to her. When she looked at her clock, she saw it was nearly two in the morning. Finally decided to get up and not wallow in self-pity in her bed and instead do it in the lounge, she got up slowly and got herself a glass of water from the bathroom before going downstairs. Every movement felt like it took too much effort.

The lights had been turned off, yet Arya found the switch easily enough and refilled her glass of water before sitting on the couch. Around her, more lights suddenly turned on and Arya swung around to see Gendry standing by the stairs, looking incredibly disgruntled, his dark hair all messed up. She did her best to ignore the fact that he didn't have a top on and he looked rather attractive without it.

"Sorry," he muttered quickly, "I just saw the lights on and I was wondering if…" Gendry stopped when he saw her expression. "Are you okay?"

_No,_ Arya wanted to scream but she smiled slightly. "Just…y'know," she said emotionlessly. "The usual."

"No, sorry…I don't really know. Jon hasn't told me much."

"Oh yeah?" she retorted. "That's not what it seems like. You seem to know my whole bloody life story."

"I don't," he said immediately, and Arya was shocked to see his blue eyes full of honesty. "He's only told me that you were hospitalised, and a few other things. So no, I really don't know how you feel."

Arya ignored him and turned away from him, instead choosing to stare at the various posters and photos on the wall. To her surprise, she felt someone else sit down on the couch and turned to see Gendry sitting down next to her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded angrily. _He can't just do that,_ she thought, annoyed.

"You look upset," Gendry told her honestly. "I'm not...leaving. I mean, I know we don't exactly know each other..."

"Can you just stop?" Arya snapped. "I don't care. Go back to bed." _Or stay,_ she thought, _please stay. You're distracting me..__._

There was a silence for a second, where Arya found herself glaring up at him. He was taller than her, like everyone else.

"Do you want me to get Jon?" Gendry finally asked quietly.

She shook her head slowly. "No, don't bother," she replied calmly.

Her brother's roommate laughed. "One minute you're all catty and next you're calm."

"So?"

This only seemed to make him laugh harder and Arya glared at him. He stopped laughing, yet he was still smiling that annoying grin.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, moving closer to her on the couch. She did her best to yet again ignore that he had no top on and it was rather distracting and...

Arya ignored her thoughts. "Tell me about Ygritte," she said suddenly.

"Ygritte?" Gendry laughed. "She's very…blunt. You'd get along with her, I think. I mean, you seem all sullen, but you've got that…blunt way about you too."

She didn't know if that was a compliment or not, so she ignored it. "Is she pretty?" Arya asked. _If she is, then I'm not like her at all. Sansa's the pretty one, everyone's the pretty one...not me._

"I suppose," he admitted, "not my type, though."

Arya rolled her eyes. The amount of men who had said that and then looked suggestively at a random girl was countless. Yet Gendry didn't seem to be that type of man and instead he looked almost thoughtful.

They sat in silence for awhile, yet it wasn't awkward. "Do you miss your father?" Gendry finally asked quietly. "You don't have to answer."

Arya pretended to think for a moment, though she already knew the answer. "Yeah," she told him, "it doesn't really get any better, like people say. You just kinda…slowly grow almost immune to it, I guess. Well, at least that's what everyone else did. I seem to just be some stupid vulnerable person."

He was quiet for a moment. "It's not stupid...everyone gets upset. When my dad died, I was really upset. I didn't speak to anyone for days…it was worse that...well, my mum...she didn't tell me exactly _who_ my dad was until he died."

"So you didn't know who your dad was your whole life...?"

"No…my mum often spoke of him harshly, saying he was a vicious drunk. When he died, she told me...I didn't really know what to think."

"I'm sorry," Arya said honestly.

"Don't be. I got over him dying…it's like you said, really. It never gets better, you just slowly…realise that they wouldn't want to see you upset," Gendry replied, sighing slightly. "Anyway, I don't think you should be up this late."

"I'm not a little girl!" she snapped, standing up instantly and he laughed.

"You look like one," Gendry commented offhandedly, before quickly standing up to avoid her hitting him. It happened so quickly, that she didn't see it. Suddenly they were chasing each other around the couch, Arya threatening to hit him, Gendry simply laughing.

_Am I happy?_ she thought bizarrely.

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**A/N: **Right…I'm really sorry if any of the characters seem really…not like themselves. I know that Arya isn't exactly…herself, but people change when they go through things like that. And besides, she's still the stubborn, feisty girl we all know and love!

Forgive me for any mistakes, or errors, and feel free to correct me.

I hope you all enjoyed it and see you next time.

-Zamire


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I don't really like this chapter…it's more focusing on Gendry, and by the way, I'd just like to point out that like Arya in this story, I have absolutely no idea how to cook in any shape or form. I mean, how does one even make barley soup? Also, sorry for how…weird and sad and depressing this chapter is. I felt depressing writing it…

And sorry for the really long wait…I've just been quite busy with assignments and all that jazz.

Also, on another note, I was wondering if I'm moving this to fast? I just wanted to form Arya and Gendry's character quickly and then get to the…good stuff.

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**-The Key to Happiness-**

**-Chapter 2-**

The incident between him and Arya had either been forgotten or pointedly ignored, something which Gendry Waters couldn't help but agree with. It wasn't really embarrassing, it was more…personal and intimate. Jon clearly didn't know, something which Gendry was thankful for yet again. He didn't want his roommate thinking something was going on. Besides, he was far too busy to even take notice of Jon Snow's little sister, or _half _-sister, or whatever it was.

Gendry hated university at the moment, which he knew was common for a lot of people. When he had called his mum and told her what he felt, she had told him that it was common, and nearly _everyone_ went through it. He didn't care, though, for why should he do something if he didn't enjoy it? At the moment, Gendry was taking an engineering course, which he found utterly dull and boring. In high school, nearly everyone had told him that it would be perfect for him. It was far from that, though.

Jon often told him that people never really found out what they wanted to do for awhile, and that was Gendry's problem. _He didn't know what he wanted to do._ How could he, when for most of his high school life he had just been trying to get by? Most people had a vague clue when they reached their senior years, ideas of becoming actresses and successful lawyers and all of that stuff. Gendry knew Jon was in a band, yet he was still pursuing sociology, something which he thought sounded boring.

He came home for university one evening, extremely tired. After his classes, a few of his mates had decided to drag him along to a pub, yet Gendry had left fairly quickly. Alcohol brought back memories, as did the smell of cigarettes, so he avoided both as much as possible. Of course he would have a beer every now and then, but spirits…

"You're home," a voice from the couch said, and Gendry turned to see Arya sitting on their torn down couch, crawled into a ball with a bowl of popcorn beside her. Some silly sitcom was playing, yet it was clear she wasn't watching it.

"Yeah," he replied, kicking off his shoes and dumping his bag near the door. As usual, he went straight to the kitchen, and began to rummage through the cupboards.

"I ate all the chips," he heard her quiet voice tell him. "And the ice-cream…and the leftover pizza…"

Gendry couldn't help but smile. "Well, then, what is there?" he asked, his voice teasing. "Or did you eat it all?"

"I haven't finished the popcorn yet. I haven't started on the packet of Mars Bars either."

He didn't reply, and instead opened the cupboard which contained all the chocolate items. There was a large packet of Mars Bars inside, which Gendry snatched up and made his way towards the couch. Arya sat in the middle of the couch, watching the sitcom emotionlessly.

"You don't seriously find this stuff…_interesting_, do you?" he asked, unsure as he sat down next to her. She looked up at him, a slight smile on her face.

"Of course not," she said seriously. "It's just…distracting."

Gendry nodded, uncertain if he should comfort her. He couldn't tell if she was upset – he just wasn't good at that stuff. If Jon were here, he'd know what to do, what to say. "Where's Jon?" Arya asked suddenly, grabbing the Mars Bar packet and ripping it open. She opened two of the Mars Bars and stuffed them in her mouth. Gendry began to wonder how she was so skinny, when at the moment she was eating like a pig. The last few nights she certainly hadn't shown such an appetite.

"I thought you knew," he told her, grabbing a Mars Bar as well. "He might be at band practise."

She nodded, still watching the T.V screen idly. "He likes her, y'know," Arya said suddenly, and Gendry stared at her.

"_What_?" he spluttered, frowning. "What _are_ you talking about?"

"The sitcom, you idiot."

"_Me_? An idiot? You just suddenly said something completely out of topic! And besides, I thought you said you didn't enjoy it."

Arya seemed thoughtful for a minute. Jon had told him before she arrived that Arya had never been thoughtful _before_, or quiet, or…withdrawn. It felt weird, to see her like this, when from all the stories she was loud and feisty and fierce. Not in a sexual way, or anything like that.

"Well?" Gendry demanded stubbornly. "You said you didn't like it?"

"I watched it a lot…in the hospital," she finally admitted quietly. "So…I suppose I know what it's all about. Which was what I was _trying_ to say." For a second, the flash of feisty Arya appeared on her face.

He sighed. "What were you _trying_ to say, then?"

"See that girl?" She pointed to someone on screen, but it quickly flashed to someone else.

"The brunette?"

"_No_. The blonde, you idiot."

"Right…" Gendry said, watching her. She was glaring at him, as if he had done everything wrong.

"_That_ girl. Anyway, she likes this guy…though she denies it…I just know, y'know, I can see it in her eyes," Arya told him seriously.

"You _do_ realise this is a sitcom, right?"

For a moment there was silence, before she smiled sadly. "I know."

Gendry found himself sitting next to her, eating too many Mars Bars, listening to her rant all about this sitcom. She looked sad, yet didn't, and sometimes she looked so pissed and then the next minute she looked close to tears. When he saw her with that sombre expression, Gendry gently insisted that she go on, which would then lead to another speech about how Cathy or whatever her name is was in love with Benjamin.

* * *

Gendry woke up to loud swearing and the smell of burnt food. He was extraordinarily tired, and maybe just a _bit_ hung-over. Despite having promised himself last night that he wouldn't have much to drink, the idea of forgetting everything had just been…appealing. Now, his precious sleep time had been destroyed, and what time was it? It was hard to drag himself out of bed and down the stairs, but he managed.

He was not expecting to find Arya Stark standing in the middle of the kitchen, her hair all messed up and in her pyjamas, surrounding by smoke and trying desperately to blow it away. She looked furious, and hadn't even noticed him enter the small kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Gendry finally asked, sounding as pissed off as he felt.

Arya jumped in surprise, and turned around to face him. "I was _trying_ to do something nice for once, but as usual it _failed_!" she yelled, kicking the stove and pretending it didn't work by walking out. Jon was coming down the stairs as she stormed out, and stared in shock at the mess.

It _did_ look messy, Gendry couldn't help but notice. There was batter – of what, he didn't know – splattered all over the bench and the stove…well, there was smoke and he could clearly smell something burnt.

"What happened?" Jon asked when he entered the kitchen. His roommate looked as tired as he felt.

"Who knows?" he snapped, feeling tired and annoyed and – god, his head was killing him.

"Look, could you clean this up? I'll go comfort Arya."

_Why would she need comforting_? the annoyed, pissed off Gendry thought.

"Fine."

Jon left Gendry staring at the kitchen, until finally he cleared the smoke away and stared at the frypan on the stove. It looked like stupid Arya had tried to make pancakes, _tried_ being the operative word. In the frypan was burnt batter, and it looked as black as…well, _something_. He ignored his annoying thoughts and set to work scrubbing the frypan free of mix. After he had done his best, he realised that there was still a lot of the mix left, sitting on the bench. It didn't look _too_ bad, so Gendry decided to use it. Within minutes, he had one pancake sitting on a plate, smelling pretty damn delicious, if he didn't say so himself.

After a few more pancakes appeared onto the plate, Jon came down the stairs, with Arya trailing behind him. She looked sad, yet it didn't look like she had been crying. Then again, Gendry remembered Jon telling him that his little sister had mastered the art of hiding her tears, though god knows _how_. For a moment they all stared at each other, Jon looking tired yet smiling slightly, Arya with her bed hair looking furious, and Gendry…well, he could only presume he looked as hung over as he _felt_.

"I'm sorry," Arya said suddenly out of no where. "I just woke up and I thought it would be nice to make pancakes…"

Jon seemed to be waiting for him to accept her apology. Gendry stared at her, unsure what to do.

"Its fine," he finally bit out, yet even so he hurried up the stairs and slammed the door shut. He threw himself onto his unmade bed, and closed his eyes, ready to get some sleep. That was until he heard the door to his room open and felt something soft hit his face. When Gendry opened his eyes, he saw Arya standing in the doorway, holding a pillow which she promptly threw at him.

"_I said I was sorry, you stubborn bull_!" she screamed, storming out.

Gendry found he couldn't stop himself from laughing, and maybe it was his imagination, but he could've sworn he heard her laughing too.

* * *

Things were…slightly tense after the pancake incident, despite it being nearly a week ago. Gendry was surprised that it had been nearly a month since Arya had arrived, and that university would start in a few days for her. It was clear she wasn't looking forward to it, and he often found Jon and Arya arguing about it. Lately, she had been even sadder and annoyed, which stressed Jon which then stressed Gendry, and he didn't like it. In a way, he wished that she had never arrived.

Now, though, he had no time to deal with Arya. The only times he had _really_ talked to her was on the first night, and then about a week from then when they watched the sitcom. Did the pancake incident count? No, he didn't really think it did. Gendry was glad that was all, though, because around him she seemed less sad and more…annoyed, and yes, he _was_ stubborn, which meant that he often found himself insulting her or riling her up. When he told Jon that he was worried he would one day say something stupid to hurt her, his roommate had laughed.

"I don't think she's really offended by anything you say, Gendry," he had said honestly.

"Why? You've heard her on the phone with her family, and she always gets offended by simple things," Gendry said.

Jon shrugged. "Maybe it's because that in a way you're strangers…so she just goes with it. Either way, it's good for her, I think."

Maybe it was, but was it good for _him_? Sometimes he just got a _bit_ stressed by the scrawny girl living in their house, who just seemed to remain scrawny despite sometimes binging on junk food.

Gendry sighed. He needed to focus on university, and on the lecture that was happening _right now_, not some stupid arguments. Yet it was _so_ boring, and he couldn't help but yawn as Selmy Barristan started rambling on a different tangent about mechanics. The people around him turned and glared, and Gendry felt pissed all over again. Of _course_ they would glare at him, because they enjoyed being there and had bright ideas of their future and were _pursuing _them, but him? He was just sitting in a class he hated, trying to get through it each day. When it finally hit four o'clock, Selmy stopped the lecture.

"Alright, everyone, that's all for now. Make sure to look over the notes you just took, for it will be on your mid-year exam," he told them all.

Gendry looked down at his notebook. _Oh_. The realisation hit him like a dead body. He hadn't taken any notes. Had he even been listening? What had the lecture even been about? He hurriedly picked up his stuff, jamming it in his backpack and preparing to leave.

"Gendry?" Selmy called when he had just reached the door. "May I speak to you for a moment?"

He turned around and walked back towards the lecturer, who looked old and tired and sad.

"What?" Gendry asked, trying his best not to sound impolite. He craved alcohol…and a cigarette. Oh, a cigarette would be _bliss_.

"You seemed…distracted. In fact, every time I do a lecture, you always look bored and just…stressed."

For a moment he was speechless. Had someone noticed? Gendry thought he had done a pretty good job at hiding his obvious displeasure at the subject. "Oh…" he mumbled pathetically, feeling loss at words. "Well…I just…" He couldn't help but think of Arya, and the way she always told Jon exactly _what_ was wrong and _why_. Or at least, that was what Jon had _told_ him. "I hate this subject," Gendry blurted out, and suddenly he couldn't stop. "I'm bored, I hate it, I hate looking around and seeing everyone so fascinated and interested with their choice, and I'm just sitting here waiting for this whole damn thing to end! Everyone has these bright ideas of what they're going to do and I don't even know what I enjoy _doing_. I just want to…I just want to be happy doing something I'm good at."

Selmy stared at him, yet it wasn't judgemental or anything of the sort. Instead, the old lecturer smiled softly. "Gendry…you'd be surprised by the amount of people who feel the exact same as you. Not everyone is certain what they're going to do."

"But most have _at least_ a vague idea!" he interrupted loudly, not caring if he sounded rude.

"Yes, that is true. It doesn't matter if you don't, though. You just have to keep searching for what makes you happy." The lecturer looked at him. "What makes you happy?"

Gendry thought for a moment. "Friends…family...cooking, partying…"

"Cooking?" Selmy pressed. "Does that interest you?"

"It's a hobby…not something I've been looking into as a job."

"Look, Gendry…I'll tell you what. You can drop out of engineering this semester if you pass the mid-year exams. I'll give you the notes for this lecture, because it's clear that you didn't take any. Try and look into things that fascinate you, or that you enjoy doing. It doesn't matter if it sounds stupid or if you think it's a hobby. Just get through the rest of this term, and then the next, and that's it."

Gendry frowned. He didn't really want to finish this term and _then_ do another. That was…a lot of time spent in something he didn't want to do. "Can't I just drop out _completely_?"

Selmy stared at him. "I'm not going to let a student waste their future away," he said firmly, before turning back to his desk. "That will be all, Gendry."

He left, closing the door behind him. All around him, people walked around with smiles on their faces, laughing, all prepared for their happy futures. Gendry grabbed his phone, and pressed in a number he had learnt off by heart many years ago. It rang only a few times before she answered.

"Gendry?" His mum sounded happy, yet worried. He only ever called her when something was bothering him or…

"Mum," he whispered, hurrying out of the university main hall until he was outside. Barely anyone was out, as most had finished their classes or lectures.

"What's up?"

"Look, mum…I just…you know how I _hate_ the engineering class I'm doing…"

"Yeah, of course. Why?"

"I was…I just…I don't know what I want to do anymore," Gendry admitted, walking through the grounds of the university. "I just want to…_do_ something, but I don't know what."

His mum laughed through the phone. "You were always like that, baby. One minute you wanted to be a fire fighter, the next a famous actor…"

Gendry ignored the fact that his mother called him _baby_ and he was, what, twenty five years old? "Yeah…I know…but…what do _you_ think I should do?"

"It's not about what I think. It's about what you want, and I know you don't know…but just keeping looking. I'm sure one day you'll just wake up and _know_."

"Is that what happened to you?" he asked, annoyed.

"No," his mum admitted, "but…you're different. You're stubborn, brave and the best son I could have ever asked for."

Gendry wanted to tell her that she actually _didn't_ ask for him, but he didn't. "Thanks mum," he said instead. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

It was her who hung up, not him. He simply held the phone up to his ear, waiting for her to suddenly tell him what he would do in the future and he would realise that she was right and everything would make sense again. Instead, he put the phone away and went to buy some cigarettes and get piss drunk.

* * *

"You're going," Jon told her, for what must have been the fiftieth time. It was their regular argument about Arya going back to university in the next term. The term would start _tomorrow_, for gods sake, and she wasn't prepared to face anyone.

"Why should I?" Arya replied. "There's no point. I'll just work for you, right?"

"Work for me? Little sister, you can't sing or…do anything remotely musical."

"I'll be your manager."

Jon laughed at this, but she could tell that he wouldn't budge on the matter. She really _was_ going to university, and going to face all those old friends of hers. Lommy and Hot Pie probably wouldn't recognise her, and Arya wouldn't blame them. Her long hair had been cut, and she had maintained that same style ever since Ned died. It was now short, and Arya also knew that she was a lot skinnier than before.

Either way, she didn't particularly _want_ to be the manager of Jon's band anyway. She heard that they had one, Samwell Tarly, who Arya briefly remembered meeting. Their band wasn't all that well known either, even around Winterfell, and Theon used to often joke about 'the little lads trying to make music'.

"What's so bad about going back to uni anyway?" Gendry asked from the couch. Lately, Arya hadn't really been talking to him that much. He was sullen and withdrawn these days, and she knew he had started smoking. That was why Jon had decided that they would cook for tonight, to try and cheer him up.

"I don't get it," she had snapped. "Why can't he just…I don't know, what's even _wrong_ with him?"

Jon rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to tell you that. I don't think you really have a leg to stand on either, sis."

That had ended their conversation, and now Arya found herself in a kitchen not really knowing what she was doing.

"Tyrion Lannister," she told Gendry, "and my old friends."

"You had _friends_?"

Arya growled while cutting some carrots up. "_Yes_, I did."

"You did," he repeated slowly, "so you don't now?"

"I do."  
"Name them. List them, in alphabetical order."

"Jaqen, Hot Pie, Lommy, Margaery, Roslin, Jeyne," she told him confidently, even though she had simply added those last three names in.

"That wasn't in alphabetical order," Gendry pointed out, and she suddenly wished he would go back to being all sad.

Instead of telling him that, Arya rolled her eyes, and resumed cutting the carrots. They were making a barley soup, or at least that was what Jon told her. She was just doing as the recipe said, cutting up different things while her brother hurried around the kitchen. Gendry was watching from the couch, amusement in his eyes for about the first time since the term had ended. He could be so stubborn and stupid sometimes, yet occasionally he was alright. Like that night when she first arrived and he had comforted her. They hadn't mentioned it all, and Arya planned to keep it like that. She didn't want Jon getting stupid ideas in his head about them being friends or something.

"I think we can add the vegetables now," her brother said nervously.

"Want me to check?" Gendry called out.

"_No_," Arya snapped, "yeah, just add them in. If it doesn't work, we'll just order pizza."

Jon laughed at this, and grabbed the chopping board to pour all the vegetables into the soup. It smelt alright, but then again she remembered a time when Bran had tried to cook something, and it smelt delicious at first…That was before the car accident, though, when Arya's younger brother had still been able to walk. After he had been hit by a car, they all thought that he would die, but he hadn't. _He's too stubborn, like the rest of us,_ she thought, smiling slightly at the thought of her younger brother. Bran and Rickon were often forgotten beneath them all, as Robb had become some important business man and Sansa…ever since she had been young, it was always _her_ in the spotlight. They were all back in Riverrun, still finishing school.

"Maybe I'll visit when I'm finished," Bran had told her, before she was about to leave to Winterfell.

"Maybe," Arya whispered, and for a moment she felt so sad. "I'll miss you."

He smiled. "I'll miss you too. Don't do anything too…outgoing."

"I think everyone would be glad if I did. They'd all cheer about how the 'old Arya's' back."

"What do you think of that?" Bran asked. He had always been the smart one, the observer.

"I hate it," she admitted, "because there is no old Arya. There's just me."

"I know, sister, I know."

Her goodbye with Rickon had been so…different, that it made Arya laugh. He had simply thrown himself at her and promised her that he would visit, and they would have a massive game of soccer, every one of them. Rickon was always moving, and the sportiest of them all. Even Theon sometimes complained about getting tired when they played a family game, and he was on the state football team.

"_Shit_!" Jon shouted suddenly, and Arya saw the soup was bubbling a lot. It suddenly started steaming, and she couldn't help but remember the pancake incident. Gendry hurried over, and turned the heat down on the stove, yet it was clear that most of the soup seemed a bit…burnt and thick.

"You two are so…_stupid_," he said, laughing slightly. She could smell the smoke in his breath, and it pissed her off.

"Oh, who cares?" Jon was smiling too, yet she saw nothing amusing about it. "We'll order pizza, like Arya said."

"Useless," she muttered, which only caused her brother and Gendry to laugh louder. Jon got the phone and dialled a number for the pizza, and began ordering his favourite, as well as hers and what she presumed to be Gendry's.

"I'll pick it up," Jon said, when he hung up. "It's going to be ready in about ten minutes, so I may as well leave now."

"I'll go," Arya offered suddenly. "I want to see Winterfell anyway." She hadn't really left the house, despite having arrived more than a month ago.

Her brother and Gendry exchanged glances. "You don't even have your license, though," Jon pointed out.

"Do so," she scoffed, "I got it in Riverrun. Besides, they won't bother fining me, because…I'm Ned Stark's daughter."

For a moment there was silence, before Gendry nodded. "Yeah, you'll be fine. Just don't take too long, I'm _starving_."

Arya rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," she muttered, grabbing the car keys and money from the bench and heading outside.

"It's the usual place!" her brother shouted on her way out.

Jon's car was a crummy Ute, which looked battered and worn. She knew the only reason why he kept it was because it had been one of her father's old cars. As much as Jon wanted to deny it, he had loved Ned as much as she.

The car annoyingly smelt of smoke and peppermint, most likely from Jon's old habit of smoking. Or Gendry's _newly_ earned habit of smoking. She started the car, and had to wait a bit for it to warm up, as it was so useless. When the engine was finally rumbling nicely, she drove off, going down Jon's street and heading out onto the main road. It felt weird, driving again. She hadn't since…since…did it even matter?

Rain was falling slightly, and Arya smiled. She loved how Winterfell was freezing. Riverrun _was_ quite cold, but nowhere near as her home. Winterfell was _always_ her home, even though she knew it wasn't her mother's and _definitely_ not Sansa's. Sansa had no home, not really, and for that Arya pitied her. She knew her sister hadn't felt safe in a place since bloody Joffrey Baratheon had screwed everything up.

The pizza place was in the usual place, and when Arya got out of the car she couldn't help but note it smelt as nice as it always did. When she entered, there was a rather large line, so Arya sat down, picked up a trashy magazine and began to read. There was something interesting about the sitcom she watched, Watchers on the Wall. She had _no_ idea why it was called that at all, but…it had been a favourite in the hospital.

She was totally engrossed in her reading, which was all about the actors of Watchers on the Wall and the bullshit about them, that she didn't notice the slightly large person stand over her, until he said her name.

"Arya?" His voice sounded lower, more…masculine, and when Arya looked up she prayed that she was actually hallucinating and she was back in the hospital, and none of this had ever happened, maybe she wasn't going to uni, maybe…

"Hot Pie," she greeted dully, when she apparently seemed to realise that this _was_ in fact real.

"You look…different…"

Arya nearly snorted. "So do you," she commented offhandedly, and she meant it. Hot Pie was less…fat, and more…more muscle. He looked like a man, and she couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic.

"Thanks," her old friend replied, clearly taking it as a compliment. "What are you doing here?"

"Picking up a pizza…you?"

"I work here…" He trailed off, seemingly unsure.

"That's nice," Arya said awkwardly. "Erm…well…"

"Your pizza's ready, by the way." With that, Hot Pie left, clearly sensing her unease. She got up and went to the counter, where he handed her two boxes which smelt delicious. Arya handed him the money, and when he gave her the change, she took a deep breath.

"Hot Pie…" she began, hesitant. "Look, how about…is your mobile number still the same?"

Her old friend looked surprise, but nodded eagerly. "Yeah, it is."

"I'll call you, then. It was nice seeing you…really, it was."

Arya left, hurrying out into the cold clutching the warm pizza boxes to her body desperately. When she finally entered the safety of the Ute, she breathed a sigh of relief. It hadn't gone…too badly, had it? She didn't know. Even before everything happened, she had never been that social, always too loud for everyone's liking. Not that it had stopped her, though.

She drove out of the car park, and drove home probably a bit too fast, but who cared, anyway? No one was here to lecture her. Her father was _dead_, her mother was…did Catelyn Stark even care about her? Sansa was just being polite, Robb and Rickon only barely tolerated her, Theon probably thought of her as Robb's annoying little sister, Jon…Jon was probably just putting up with her and Gendry…like he would care. She felt even more furious as she drove home, and how did she even _get_ onto this tangent? Didn't Jaqen tell her that she should stop her self talk before it got out of control?

Arya felt sick when she got out of the car, appetite apparently lost. She stormed into the house.

"I'm back," she announced, far too loudly. Her voice sounded weird, like…like how it used to.

Jon and Gendry hurried into the room from the lounge, where they had been watching the T.V. They ripped open the boxes and got plates out, putting the pieces on their own plates. When Jon noticed that she was moving to take any, he frowned.

"Aren't you hungry, sis?" he asked, noticing her weird expression.

Arya glared at him. He looked concerned. "No," she snapped. Most things she ate came back up anyway, not that she had told her brother or his annoying roommate that. It had been happening for ages now, and she hadn't bothered to tell anyone. She kept telling herself it would stop soon, even though it didn't.

Surprisingly, it was Gendry who broke the awkward silence that ensured. "Well…you can have some anyway," he said easily, getting out another plate and putting a slice of margarita pizza on her plate.

"Didn't you hear me? I said I _don't want any_." She felt sick to the stomach as she stared at both of them. They were both so damn _tall_, and how could they be that strong?

"Arya…" Jon began, but she cut him off.

"Don't bother. I'm not hungry. I'm going to bed," she told him. "I've got uni tomorrow, don't I? I should be all ready and prepared…not a fucking tired idiot." She laughed, yet it sounded hollow and…insane.

She stormed past them, but Gendry grabbed her wrist. "What's _wrong_ with you?" he demanded, holding it firmly.

Arya struggled against it, before finally giving up. "Oh, y'know, just the _small_ fact that I _hate everyone_! I hate how _everyone's_ happy, and _I'm not_, and that everyone can deal with the shit fact that my dad's dead! I hate the fact that I wished that it was my _mum_ that was dead, not my _dad_. I hate how everyone stares at me pityingly, and goes on and on about how they _fucking understand_. I hate how Sansa went through worse than me, yet I'm the one who wants to die and just…_not do anything_. _Everyone_ has gone on with their lives and I'm just sitting here waiting for something _good_ to happen to _mine_! Everyone _tolerates _me, no one…I mean, why would they like _me_?"

Had she always felt like this? Arya couldn't remember. She felt so…sick…so…what was even wrong with her? I mean, she _knew_ that people liked her, but…her mind kept tricking her, yelling at her, taunting her. It told her she was fat and stupid, it told her she had no friends and that oh, _her father was dead_.

Gendry released her wrist, yet she didn't move. She was frozen to the spot, from fear, from panic, because she hadn't even told Jaqen that…and yet she told Jon and his bloody roommate? Her stomach churned uncomfortably, and Arya ran to the toilet, and proceeded to throw up everything she had eaten that day. She heard two pairs of footsteps follow her, and she wanted to scream at them to go away, but instead she let Jon take her in her arms and Gendry kneel beside her.

"Maybe we can…rethink university," her brother finally said as he held her. Gendry nodded his agreement.

"No…" Arya said slowly, her head feeling faint. "I just…I should do it, shouldn't I? There's no reason I shouldn't."

"Catelyn thought you were better," Jon pointed out sadly, ruffling her hair like he always used to do when they were little kids.

"I was…I am…I don't know. Some days are just…good…and others are fucking terrible."

It was Gendry who spoke next, which surprised her because quite frankly, she thought he hated her. "A lot of people have those days. I'm not saying their bad days might not be as bad as yours or their good days as good as yours, but…you just gotta…do it, y'know?"

He sounded like he understood, Arya realised. It wasn't like how Catelyn and Rickon and Theon and Robb and all of them had said that they understood that _it was just a phase_. Gendry Waters sounded genuinely concerned and…he sounded like he _knew_.

"Will you go?" Jon asked, still holding her.

The situation finally settled in, that she had just ranted and raved and…the embarrassment came, and it was clear that her brother felt if for he released her, and went to kneel beside Gendry.

"Yeah," Arya said finally, "I'll go."

When she lay in bed later that night, still feeling sick and tired and sore, she couldn't help but hate herself even more for _letting_ herself scream out all her problems to them. It didn't matter, though, she realised. They cared, didn't they? A tiny voice in her head whispered that they didn't, but it was so tiny that Arya didn't even bother to notice it.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and faved. I love reviews, they inspire me and hearing your advice makes me happy. I bloody _adore_ constructive criticism, so if you have any, fire away!

In case you hadn't noticed, this is kind of going to be a rather...sad...and depressing...story, filled with angst...yeah. If that's not your cup of tea, then...yeah.

I know some people might not…agree with the whole Gendry I've created. To me, he seems like the type of person who wouldn't know what to do with his life, like a lot of people. And Arya...when you're depressed there are times when you just blow up and suddenly everything comes toppling out…and then you're really embarrassed later. I hope that scene was…realistic.

Thanks for reading!

-Zamire


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **You know when you have no social life and you can just sit on the computer all day writing a Gendrya fanfic? Yeah, well, that happened to me. This is kind of like the second part of the second chapter anyway, because this is when…I'm not sure, the plot kind of _appears_? Yeah, this is slightly less depressing than the last one…except, well, a few characters are introduced, one who is _not_ nice.

Also, just like to point out that in this story Gendry's about 24-25 and Arya's 19...so yeah.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**-The Key to Happiness-**

**-Chapter 3-**

The sun was shining too brightly for Arya's liking, simply because in the movies when someone was having a bad day it was all raining and there was thunder. That _should_ have happened, especially since its Winterfell, which was absolutely freezing. Instead, it was one of those rare days where the sun seemed to push the clouds away and shine brightly. It was definitely not _hot_, because the wind was still icy cold and she still had to put on her thickest coat before heading out to, oh, yeah, _university_.

Arya was still stressed and scared and annoyed, yet she found herself walking to the particularly large university in Winterfell, even though it was a long walk. It was nearly noon, which was when her first mythology class with the one and only Tyrion Lannister was. She couldn't believe that she was about to be in the same room with Joffrey Baratheon's uncle, but…she could do it. Despite her embarrassment at her outburst last night, it had still…lifted some of the weight off her chest. That didn't mean she had been able to look Jon and Gendry in the eyes that morning, though.

The university campus felt too large, yet suffocating at the same time. Arya wasn't sure _how_ that was possible, but it was. She noticed a few people stare at her, probably because she looked like…_him_. Yet she ignored all of them, and walked bravely forward into the main building of the university. Her class was in Room 101, which was on the second floor. The stairs seemed steep and daunting, like everything else.

When she entered the room, a few other students were littered about, leaning back casually in chairs. Arya tried to remind herself that this was the first day of a new term for everyone, yet it didn't work. She still felt everyone's curious glances as she made her way to sit at the back. Tyrion Lannister still hadn't arrived yet, to her immediate displeasure, because she had hoped to give him a firm yelling at about how she _never_ wanted to take this class because…of, well, _him_. Instead she sat at the back, moping, and annoyed at how people were looking at her.

When the youngest Lannister brother finally walked in, his small rather mutated body struggling to reach the desk, Arya glared at him. He looked up at her, his mismatched eyes meeting hers, and to her surprise he smiled slightly. Tyrion finally took his place at the desk, and the lesson began. She was surprised, if not a little relieved, at the fact that he didn't act like anything was wrong. The Lannister didn't pelt her with question after question on things she knew about mythology to show his hatred. He treated her how he treated all the other students, occasionally asking her a question like he did with the others.

The lesson went quickly, and Arya was only a bit behind, despite having missed, what, a whole term? She had always been fascinated by mythology, though, so it was easy for her to listen. When the lesson ended, she packed up her books and shoved them in her bag like everyone else, knowing perfectly well that she would be pulled up by Tyrion for a talk. She was just about to get into the hallway when the annoying Lannister's voice called her back.

"A minute, Arya?" She turned, and Tyrion was looking at her. Some cruel part of her liked the fact that she could look down on him. Despite this, she didn't feel like she was intimidating in the slightest. Instead, it was the Lannister who was looking straight through her.

"Yeah?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice from shaking. Arya knew her hands were shaking, so she casually slipped them into her pockets.

"I'm sorry." His words startled her, for she hadn't been expecting that. "I know…this is probably hard for you. However I am deeply sorry for what my idiotic nephew has done to your family, as well as my rather beautiful yet power crazed sister."

"Oh…" she said weakly. "Yeah…erm…it's fine."

Tyrion looked at her curiously. "It's fine?" he repeated slowly. "Oh, I doubt that. I just hope you do realise that I am not like my devious sister or her son. You may go now, unless you have…something to ask?"

Arya stared at him, feeling shocked. "Oh…well…am I behind on anything?"

He smiled at her, and it was crooked yet…friendly. "No, you actually know quite a bit."

She decided to ignore the 'actually' of the compliment, and instead accepted it awkwardly before turning and leaving. Without thinking, she stopped at the doorway and turned to face him. "Thanks," she said, before quickly hurrying away before he could reply.

When Arya finally got outside, she took several deep breaths, before finally collapsing onto the grass. She felt stressed, but not…too bad. It hadn't gone badly, really, in fact, it had almost gone…_well_. Even though everything still seemed hard to take in, she knew that she would get used to it…or at least, most of it. Like the fact that Tyrion Lannister was her mythology teacher and he _wasn't that bad_. She stayed there for a few minutes, soaking up the sunlight and lying in the cold grass with her eyes closed.

"Hey," she heard a voice say, and when Arya opened her eyes she saw a boy – no, a man – leaning over her, a smile on his face. Hadn't he been in her mythology class?

"Hey…" Arya replied uncertainly, and she couldn't help but feel weird. After all, it was a little strange to talk to someone while lying down and they were standing up. He was rather tall, as well. The man seemed to realise this, for he quickly sat down beside her, and extended his hand.

"I'm Edric Dayne…most people call me Ned, though. I'm in your mythology class," he told her.

"I'm Arya Stark." She shook his hand, and stared into his blue – no, were they purple? – eyes.

"I was just wondering if you needed any help…I mean, you weren't in our class at the start of this semester, so…you know," Ned said politely. Arya couldn't help but think that he seemed like one of those people who were really polite when he first met people, and then after awhile he started to show his _real_ personality, whatever that was.

"Nah, I'm fine. I mean…y'know, I don't know everything, but I'm not struggling."

"That's good. Well, if you ever need any help…" Edric Dayne hesitated for a moment. "Do you want my number?"

Arya stared at him uncertainly. She didn't know if he was…or…no, she was just being stupid. No one would like her like _that_. "Oh…yeah…that's fine."

Ned broke into a grin, which looked kind of funny with his blonde hair and shining blue eyes. "Okay." He reached into his bag and pulled out a pen and piece of paper, and quickly wrote down a number before handing it back to her. "Just call me any time…or text. I'll see you later, Arya."

She took the piece of paper, not knowing what to do with it. "Okay, see you." Once he left, Arya shoved the bit of paper in her bag, and decided that it was about time to head…well, home. Jon was probably going to go mad if she wasn't home soon and Gendry…well, he probably didn't really care.

There were a lot of people lingering on the grounds, probably because mid after-noon was prime time for lectures to start. Arya made her way through all of them, awkwardly shoving through some. She was just about to leave the campus when a glint of blonde hair caught her eye. For a moment she stared at it uncertainly, for the man had his back towards her and _it couldn't be_. He was supposed to be in King's Landing. Yet when he turned she saw his gleaming blue eyes and that annoying, disgusting, repulsive, _hideous_ face. Joffrey Baratheon noticed her too, for his eyes met hers and there was a smirk on his face instantly.

The man who had pretty much screwed _everything_ up for her family was approaching her, and Arya didn't know what to do. Did she beat the living shit out of him, or…? She was panicking, and badly. Jaqen had _never_ prepared her for this. Arya was about to walk away, about to run home and hide under her bed when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She didn't dare turn around, but she noticed that the hideous bastard approaching her stopped, and quickly turned around. When Arya turned around, she stared in shock at Gendry, who was still glaring as Joffrey scampered away.

"Why…_why are you here_?" she spluttered. His hand was still on her shoulder, and she didn't bother to pull it away. It felt weird…in a nice way.

"Jon called, and asked if you were home. When I told him you weren't, he told me to come and get you," her annoying roommate told her, finally removing his hand from her shoulder.

"I didn't need your help," Arya told him suddenly, like it was…important that he know this.

Gendry gazed at her weirdly. "I didn't say anything like that."

For a moment they stared at each other, and she wondered what he was thinking. Did he think she was completely insane? _Was_ she completely insane? Finally, her roommate rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Listen, let's head back. I need a cigarette, and I can't find my packet. I bought my car, by the way, so you don't have to walk that long distance. I don't know why you _walked _this morning, but oh well," Gendry said, rambling slightly.

"I don't care about your stupid cigarettes. You shouldn't smoke."

"Do you care?" He raised one eyebrow at her, and she hated that expression so much that she looked away.

"No," Arya said shortly. "Where's your stupid car?"

He didn't respond, and simply lead her to the car park, and when he got his car keys out Arya saw he was pointing them towards a rather cheap Holden. Not that she could really talk, since she couldn't afford a car. They got in the car and Gendry drove the short distance in silence, turning the music up in the car to a deafening volume, not that Arya minded. She had always loved loud music, and even though she didn't know what the hell it was, she still liked it.

When Gendry's average Holden finally parked on the street outside their house, Arya couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Do you know Joffrey?" she blurted out.

He stared at her for a moment as they got out of the car. "Not really," he said dismissively, yet she could tell he was lying. "I know what he did to your family."

Arya didn't bother to reply, mainly because she _knew_ he was lying. It didn't really matter, though, because she seriously doubted Joffrey and him were best mates or anything like that.

They entered the house in silence, which was as usual, messy. She kind of liked it, though…it gave it personality, or something along those lines. Even so, Arya could just imagine Catelyn or Sansa's expression at the state of the house, and how it was _her_ job to clean it. Arya didn't know how to clean anything, except for maybe dishes, and even that was a half-hearted job. Gendry couldn't clean, only cook, and Jon…

"Can Jon do _anything_?" she found herself asking him, exasperated. When Arya saw Gendry's face frown at her, she quickly corrected herself. "I mean, like, does he do anything around the house?"

"Not really," the annoying roommate admitted. "He earns the money, I suppose. His band does a lot of gigs and stuff, and even though they're not the best, they're still pretty decent for Winterfell."

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying that Winterfell has no talent whatsoever?" she demanded, glaring at him. Gendry was in the kitchen, presumably looking around for his cigarette packet.

"Compared to King's Landing…I mean, King's Landing _is_ the capitol. It's where most of the talent is."

"And most of the ass holes."

Gendry rolled his eyes. "Maybe. You should go there some time…it's…nice."

"_Hell no_," Arya snapped furiously. "I've already been there anyway. The only good thing was the fencing."

"Fencing? You do fencing?"

"I _used_ to. I was on the Winterfell team, but then when…when we went to Kings Landing, I got a different coach and everything."

She couldn't help but notice that this conversation was the only slightly _normal_ one they'd had. Most of the time they only ever said good morning or good night, or some offhand comment. They never really bothered to have a proper conversation, mainly because Arya found Gendry insufferable and him…well, she didn't know what he thought of her, and she wasn't going to ask Jon. Her brother would just get some plain _weird_ ideas.

"Do you know why Joffrey was there?" Gendry suddenly asked, his voice quiet. He was still rummaging around the kitchen for his cigarettes. Arya suddenly remembered that Jon had thrown them out the night before, to try and convince his best friend to stop smoking.

"No idea," she said dismissively, not wanting to talk about Joffrey Baratheon. "Oh, by the way, I just remembered…Jon threw out your cigarettes."

Gendry slammed the cupboard which he had just opened shut. "Screw him. I'll see you later, Arya."

She watched her roommate leave, unsure if she should follow him or not. Should she of not told him? Oh well, it didn't really matter. He would have found out soon, anyway.

When Arya heard the car finally pull out of the driveway, she quickly made a sandwich and went up to her room. She didn't put much in the sandwich, in a hope that it would go down properly. To Jon's dismay, she hadn't had anything for breakfast, telling him she wasn't hungry. It had been the truth, if a little stretched. Arya _was_ hungry, she always had been like that, but…there was just no point in eating.

Her room was a bit messy, but other than that it was fine. She threw herself onto her bed, ate her sandwich, and once she had finished she got out her phone from her bag. There was no way she was going to call Edric Dayne…that would just seem so…desperate. Arya wanted to call Hot Pie, but…she just wanted to talk about simple things, like the weather or pizza, not the fact that she totally tossed him away. Naturally, though, he would want to talk about that, so she couldn't call _him_. She could call Catelyn or…Sansa. Sansa was so bloody polite and sensitive to other people's emotions that she would have to _know_ Arya didn't want to talk about something serious. In the end, she called Sansa, and waited for her to pick up.

"Arya?" Sansa's voice sounded happy, and in the background Arya could hear cheers and shouts. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah…everything's fine…I was just wondering if we could, y'know, _talk_?" she asked, and it felt weird talking to her sister so…civilly. Before…before nothing had been like this and they had always bickered and argued none stop.

"Oh…well, I suppose so…but, Arya, really…hasn't Jon told you?" Sansa seemed to sense that she wanted to talk about fun things.

"Told me _what_?"

"That Margaery, Loras and I are coming to Winterfell!"

Arya nearly dropped her mobile, and she heard herself make some indistinct sound.

"Arya, are you okay? Is something wrong with that?" Sansa asked.

_Oh yeah, just the small fact that your ex-boyfriend who fucked up our lives is in Winterfell,_ she thought dryly. "No, that's…that's _great_!"

"Good! We're actually…in Riverrun at the moment…so we're nearly there! We should be there late tonight, or early tomorrow."

"I'll tell…Gendry to make something nice," Arya managed to choke out, feeling sick to her stomach. "So you can come over for dinner one night."

"Gendry? Is that your roommate? What's he like?" Sansa sounded politely interested, something she had always been good at.

"He's alright," Arya said dismissively. "Anyway, I have to go now…it was nice talking to you though." That was the truth, though, because the doorbell was ringing loudly, and Jon and Gendry had their own keys, so it was probably someone else.

"Oh…" Her sister sounded disappointed. "Well, that's fine. I might call you when we're near Winterfell, okay? Take care, Arya."

"You too." When she hung up, the doorbell was still ringing annoyingly loud. Who even pressed the button that many times?

"I'm coming!" Arya shouted as she shoved her phone in her bag and hurried downstairs. She opened the door, expecting to see someone like Theon Greyjoy or Robb or…

Joffrey Baratheon stood there, on her doorstep, looking as cocky and arrogant as…well, _him_. Behind him was a tall and _hideous_ man, one side of his face completely burnt.

"Oh…hey," Arya said awkwardly, clenching her fists by her side. How did he even _know_ where she lived? Or they lived? Or whatever?

"Arya Stark, isn't it?" Joffrey said, squinting his annoyingly blue eyes. They weren't like Gendry's, she realised suddenly. Gendry's were bright and kind and smiley, while Joffrey's were…wait, where did that even _come_ from?

"Yeah…" she replied stupidly, and she could see the brute behind him laughing slightly.

"I thought we should talk. May I come in?" he asked coolly, his blonde hair glinting in the sunlight.

_What_? Could he…_come in_? _No, of course he can't, this is my house, what am I doing?_ Yet Arya felt like her mouth had gone completely dry, and her hands were shaking drastically. All the ways of brutally murdering him disappeared abruptly. Joffrey seemed to sense the moment of her unease, for he shoved past her as easily as anything, and entered the house.

"Come on, dog," he called out to his companion, who pushed her aside surprisingly gently. When Joffrey saw that Arya was still standing by the door, he glared. "Well? Go get us something to drink, or eat."

"R-right…" She found her hands were sweating badly, and she stumbled into the kitchen, quickly making some coffee while Joffrey and his 'dog' or whatever was seated on the couch. Arya couldn't help but notice how out of place both of them looked on the scruffy couch. Once the coffee was ready, she poured it into two chipped mugs and hurried towards them, shoving the mugs in their hands. She decided to stay standing, not wanting to sit on the same couch as _them_. When Joffrey took a sip, he shuddered dramatically.

"What _is_ this?" he demanded, looking at the coffee as if it were poisoned.

"Coffee," Arya said, finding her voice at least. "If you don't like it…then…well, don't have anything."

Joffrey Baratheon glared at her, but she noticed he kept sipping his coffee.

"Why are you here?" she finally asked, feeling a bit of anger inside her now, replacing the nerves. "I mean…you…_why_?"

The blonde haired man smiled deviously. "Well, you see, I have your father's will. It's only natural that _you_, as his daughter, see it." His tone turned dangerously dark. "_Especially_ since he seems to have given you something in his will. Something he never had."

"What do you mean?"

"Dog, show her the will."

Arya watched nervously as the brute pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. She grabbed it, and opened it up. Her father's familiar messy scrawl was sprawled out all over the paper. He seemed to have crossed out many things, and added even more. Yet she could make out a few things, like how quite a bit of money would go to Bran and Rickon, and how their old house in Winterfell now belonged to Theon and Robb. There was also more money given to Sansa, yet none to her. Instead, written in the middle, the only thing that hadn't been crossed out, were the words 'Baratheon Corp.' and underneath were her and Jon's names scrawled.

"Oh." Her lips felt like butter, and she had to fight not to cry. Why would her father give Baratheon Corp to _her_? Not to mention that Jon wasn't even…well, none of them were even sure who his real mother was. Arya wasn't that smart, and she was no business woman. Not to mention the small fact that she could barely function at the moment.

"As you should know, Baratheon Corp. is _not_ Eddard Stark's," Joffrey told her formally, and she flinched when she heard her father's name.

"O-okay, that's fine. It's yours," Arya said instantly, clenching and unclenching the piece of paper in her hands.

The annoying blonde frowned at her. "Really? I'm not sure your little _half-breed_ brother would agree to such a thing."

She stared at him. "_It doesn't matter_." Her own voice scared her. It was deep and guttural and…abnormal. "You just take the bloody thing."

Joffrey Baratheon smiled cruelly at her. "Very well then. I thought I'd inform you, as well…you _are_ Eddard Stark's _favourite _daughter, that Baratheon Corp. is extending. Fairly soon we shall be also in Winterfell, as well as Highgarden. I don't know if you know, but the Tyrells are very good friends of ours," he explained.  
Arya had so many questions in her mind, the first one being what _was_ Baratheon Corp.? She didn't even know if it was some kind of…mining company, or something else.

"I'd…say that's great but it really…_isn't_," she said, biting her lip.

"Not for you Starks. However for the Lannisters it is."

Arya didn't miss the way he said Lannisters and not Baratheons. "Okay…"

Joffrey seemed to decide that he'd had enough, for he put his_ empty_ coffee mug on the table and got up, brushing imaginary crumbs off his rather…elegant – was that a bloody tunic?

"It was enlightening to talk to you, Arya Stark. I do hope to see dear Sansa around sometime. Good day," he said, smiling wickedly. "Dog, let's go." He got half way down the front yard before turning around. "By the way, didn't you ever wonder why your father died so…abruptly?" Joffrey laughed sourly. "If I were you, I certainly would."

As they left, all Arya could think was how rude the combo were, Joffrey simply leaving and entering without permission and the brute…well, he had simply _sat_ there. She stared at the piece of paper in her hands, wanting to burn it or just…do something. Didn't Jon have the right to know, though? And what he had said about her father…hadn't he died of stress? That's what everyone had told her.

Without thinking, Arya Stark stuffed the piece of paper in her pocket and left the house, locking it behind her.

* * *

Sansa Stark stared out the window of the car idly. They were on the road yet _again_, except this time Loras was driving, and he wasn't exactly the safest driver, despite his charming and polite personality. Margaery was singing softly in the front seat, while she sat in the back with Lady, her newly purchased husky. In Highgarden Sansa had found the stray on the streets, and because the dog had reminded her so much of her _old_ dog, called Lady as well, she took it in. The dog seemed to like her, which delighted her to bits.

She wasn't sure _why_ they were even going to Winterfell. It was clear Margaery didn't either. It had been Loras who had announced it, after he had got off the phone from their grandmother, Olenna Tyrell. Loras hadn't explained anything, except going on about how Sansa would get to see everyone again, which was true. They had just left Riverrun, and she'd enjoyed talking to her mother again, as well as briefly playing with Rickon and helping Bran study. Yet the person she really wanted to see was Arya, which was quite surprising.

They had never liked each other as sisters, and had always been the two bickering and arguing. After their father died, though, Arya went into a shell and Sansa…well, she stayed in an abusive relationship with Joffrey Baratheon, not wanting to tell anyone. No one knew that it was actually _Arya_ who had found out, _not_ Bran. Bran had told her afterwards, that it was Arya who saw them together, Arya who saw them fighting. Sansa had never brought it up with her sister.

"What do you think we should do when we get there?" Margaery asked suddenly, interrupting the comfortable silence.

"I have things to do," Loras said at once. "_Important_ things," he added quickly, when Margaery seemed to glare at him.

"Well, what do _you_ think, Sansa? You must know all the beautiful spots…oh, and are there any handsome men around? Do you know?"

"There's a few," she admitted, "but not really."

"Didn't you say you used to date one of your brother's friends or something?" Margaery asked, clearly intrigued.

"Well, yes. His name was Theon Greyjoy…"

"_Greyjoy_?" Loras interjected from the front seat. "You dated a _Greyjoy_?"

"Yes, I did," Sansa snapped defensively. "And let me tell _you_, he was much better than Joffrey Baratheon."

There was an awkward silence that filled the car, and Loras seemed to cough uncomfortably.

"Loras didn't mean to upset you," Margaery said quickly, breaking the silence. "Did you, Loras?"

"No, of course not." His response was tight and clipped, and she didn't believe him for a minute.

"I forgive you, Loras," Sansa said politely, even though he hadn't directly apologised. She knew it was the right thing to say, and that was what she was always trying to do after Joffrey Baratheon. Say the right thing, do the right thing, even if it wasn't what you wanted or thought.

They drove in tense silence, the only sound being Margaery's quiet humming. Outside it was rather sunny, which surprised Sansa. Usually, the closer one got to Winterfell the colder it would become. Yet it was clear that today was one of those rare sunny days. Even though Winterfell was still a fair way off, Sansa was already excited. She couldn't wait to see Arya, for some strange unknown reason. They had already seen each other around a month or so ago, when she had dropped Arya off. Now, though, wouldn't things be all better and lovely?

"I think we might make it tonight!" Margaery said excitedly, and when Sansa looked out the window she could see it was true. It was nearly completely dark, and in the distance she could make out the lights of Winterfell and the tall mountains beyond it. She briefly remembered Arya telling her that it was rumoured that there had once been a massive wall of ice north of Winterfell.

"Are we staying at a hotel or somewhere else?" Sansa asked. She hated staying at hotels, mainly because it was so unfamiliar and…just not good. If they were, she would probably ask to stay with Arya and Jon and their roommate.

"No…" Loras said, and he sounded almost uncomfortable. "We'll be staying with a friend."

Even Margaery seemed to look at him weirdly. "I thought you said we were staying at a hotel," she said smoothly.

"Change of plans."

Sansa tuned out when she saw the pair were about to bicker, except this time it seemed a bit more serious. _At least we're not staying at a hotel_, she thought happily, and leaned back, wanting to get a little bit of sleep before they arrived.

When she opened her eyes, they were in Winterfell, driving through the streets, and it was well and truly dark. It looked like rather expensive side of town, where she had used to live when everything had been happy and nice. Sansa tried to spot where they were, but Loras was driving too fast to see the sign posts properly.

"Loras, slow down! We're not in any rush!" Margaery snapped at her brother, and she couldn't help but notice how tense the two seemed.

"I know," he said calmly, "but, we're nearly there."

The car stopped outside a very grand and large looking house, and Sansa couldn't help but gape at it. Margaery seemed to be looking furious, yet she didn't know why.

"A very rich friend you have, Loras," she commented dryly, getting out of the car and slamming the door. Her brother got out, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

"Sansa," he began, but was interrupting by the door to the mansion opening. An incredibly handsome man was walking down the drive way, and wait, wasn't that…?

"Loras, Margaery," Jaime Lannister greeted them both smoothly, before turning his eyes to Sansa. They looked almost apologetic. "Sansa, it's been awhile."

She was confused, so confused, for why would Loras be associating with Jaime Lannister? Didn't he know? No, he did, for Sansa had told the Tyrell siblings _everything_. She felt a hand grip her arm suddenly, and turned to see Margaery standing beside her.

"I didn't know," the older woman whispered pathetically. "I am _so_ sorry."

Sansa wanted to scream at all three of them, demand to know what was so wrong even though she had a sick feeling in her stomach. The door to the mansion opened again, and out stepped _his_ damn bodyguard, the man who had saved her on many occasions. Sandor Clegane looked at her so pityingly that she didn't even notice it when Joffrey exited the house as well.

"You've all arrived!" he said, his blue eyes glinting dangerously as he approached them.

"Joffrey," Loras greeted, smiling vaguely, yet it didn't quite meet his eyes. They didn't look like friends as they shook hands stiffly. The Baratheon boy then turned his eyes to Margaery, who was smiling thinly.

"You must be Margaery. I have heard much about you," he said charmingly, and Sansa wanted to vomit everywhere, or just _get away_.

"I have heard _much_ about you," the Tyrell woman replied, her eyes narrowing as he kissed her hand.

Joffrey's eyes were suddenly on her, and she wanted to squirm. Instead of kissing her hand like he did to Margaery, he leaned in dangerously close and gave a lingering kiss to her cheek.

"I knew you'd come back, Sansa," he whispered, his hot breath brushing her throat.

When he finally leaned back to allow her to breath, Sansa wanted to run in the car and go to that hotel that they had been supposed to go to. Any hotel was better than here.

* * *

It was freezing outside, due to the fact that it had been a clear day, and Gendry sat in his car, simply driving around Winterfell. After smoking a few more cigarettes than necessary, he had decided to just drive around, not particularly wanting to go back home or whatever it was. All his money was pretty much gone from the price of cigarettes, and he felt sad and all that shit, which meant loud music and open windows, despite it being freezing.

He was happy with himself, in a weird way. Despite being tempted to drop into a local pub and get piss drunk, like he usually did nowadays, Gendry had stopped himself and instead gone for a drive to calm him down. Ever since Arya had arrived, he had been worse. It wasn't her fault, though, really, it was just she had arrived at a bad time for him. And clearly a bad time for _her_.

She was weird, Arya, all moody and everything. Gendry had never really…dealt, with someone who had depression or whatever it was called. Most of his mates were the go-with-the-flow type people, who didn't really give a shit about anything. Jon was probably the only exception, because his roommate was serious and hardworking, _except_ when he was around Ygritte. Arya wasn't really a friend, though, was she? She was more a type of person he was just being polite to, or 'tolerating'. Jon's younger sister had been on his mind _a lot_, but not in a romantic way. More a confused and not knowing what to do way.

Gendry continued to drive around, his thoughts going away from Arya Stark and to less complicated things, like what his mates were doing, and the music he was currently enjoying. He was in some area of Winterfell he had never been, and it was rather…secluded. There were quite a few shifty looking shops and pubs, and a lot of suspicious people walking around, like – was that Arya? It looked like it was, because he could recognise the old faded jeans and the same t-shirt she wore most days. He slowed the car down and drove beside her.

It took Arya less than a minute to realise a car was trailing her, to Gendry's amusement. When she did, she looked at it startled.

"My father's a cop!" she shouted suddenly, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly.

He opened the windows. "Is he, now?"

She froze, and stared at him. "What are _you_ doing here? Did Jon send you?"

"Jon doesn't even know you're walking the streets this late, and oh, hey, did you notice the strip club behind you?"

"Look, can you just kindly _fuck off_?" Arya snapped, continuing to walk, and when he continued trailing behind her she stopped short. "Okay, now you're just being really creepy. Aren't you like, twenty four?"

Gendry rolled his eyes. She was clearly upset, because she looked all tense and uptight, and not to mention that whenever she was sad the right side of her lip was always quirked…He stopped short when he realised his thoughts sounded _borderline_ creepy.

"Can you just get in if you found it so creepy?" Gendry shouted, stopping the car by the side of the road.

Arya seemed to hesitate for a moment, before finally sighing loudly. "Oh, whatever."

She got in and made a good effort of slamming the door shut. Once her seat belt clicked in, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared out the window.

"Are you okay?" he asked suddenly, and then quickly regretted it. They weren't even close, so why would she share her problems with _him_? Sure, last night she had blurted out a lot of shit but Gendry had a feeling that there was a lot more to it. And now…she just looked, stressed and troubled, like something had happened.

Arya seemed to pause for a bit. "First of all, why were you driving down that street? You weren't planning on visiting a strip club or anything, were you?"

"_No_! I was just driving around, and _don't_ give me that look."

She was still looking at him disbelievingly, before she sighed again. "Okay, sure, if you say so. Anyway, that's not the point. Can you drive…like, okay, I'll just give you directions," Arya said.

"To where, exactly?" he asked, as he turned left off that hideously suspicious street.

"Just…just shut up and I'll tell you where to go."

Gendry proceeded to listen to her give him directions, and he knew after all that they were going to the north of Winterfell, to some mysterious weird place that he didn't know of. They were no street lights, and the road was pure dirt, and he couldn't help but feel a little worried about where he was leading them. Finally, Arya pointed to a rather hidden turn off, and there was a small parking area. She got out of the car quickly, and gestured for him to follow.

"Where _are_ we going?" he demanded, as she led him to a path which seemed to go up a hill.

"I said it before, _shut up_ and follow me," Arya said and there was a small smile on her face as she guided him up the trail.

They walked in silence, and Gendry couldn't help but notice that even without a light she knew exactly where she was going, pointing out bits claiming they were too muddy or some other stuff like that. When she finally stopped them, he couldn't see anything.

"Do you have your cigarette lighter?" Arya asked suddenly, and he stared at her suspiciously.

"Yeah…why?"

"So we can _see_?"

He got out his lighter and flicked it a few times, before finally producing a small flame. It was clear that a lot of trees were surrounding them, and was that a _face_ on one?

"Where is this…?" Gendry asked, moving the lighter around to try and see things.

"It's the godswood…with the weirwood trees. You see the ones with the faces on them? They're the weirwood trees. It's said that people came here to pray…or something like that. I can't really remember," Arya explained easily, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the middle of the small wood.

"Why are we here?"

She glared at him. "Do you always have to ask such stupid questions? Why can't we just…I don't know, _be_ here?"

"Well, there are a few reasons. It's the middle of the night, and I don't even _know_ why you were walking the streets!" he snapped angrily. "We're in the middle of _nowhere_."

"No, we're not. My…my dad used to take me here all the time. I know this place like the back of my hand." She grimaced when she mentioned Ned Stark, as if it hurt, which it probably did.

"Look…we're not going to _pray_, are we…? I mean, no offense or anything, I just don't believe in some man in the sky or whatever…"

"Nah, we're not going to pray. I used to go here all the time with him, and he used to say that…sometimes…advice would just come to him, and he'd _know_ what he would have to do. Except…I don't think that really worked, because if he got the idea that we should go to King's Landing from here…" Arya trailed off sadly.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "Did something…happen? I don't know, you seem a little…tense."

She bit her lip. "Look, can we not talk about it?"

He didn't reply, and they simply stood in silence, and after awhile the cigarette lighter blew out, and there was complete darkness. Yet it didn't feel…sad, or depressing, and even though he didn't have any sudden epiphanies, Gendry felt almost…refreshed when Arya finally turned around and began to walk away.

"Did you…get your answer?" he asked, feeling almost stupid.

"No," she replied shortly. "I never expected to, though."

"Then…why did we go?"

Arya looked him in the eye, and he couldn't help but notice how skinny and fragile and just…_broken_ she was. "I didn't want to go alone."

Gendry nodded, and they walked back to the car in silence. The drive home was tense, and halfway there his phone buzzed, with a message from Jon expressing his concern on Arya's whereabouts.

"You text him back," he told her, and she nodded and quickly wrote a reply before clicking send. Gendry drove faster than he probably should have, and pretty soon the car stopped outside the house. It was nearly two in the morning, yet he didn't feel tired.

"Gendry…" Arya said suddenly, and he realised that it was probably the first time she had said his name. "I was just wondering if you knew…any investigators or something like that? Like, _private_ investigators?"

He stared at her. It was clear she didn't want Jon to know about what she was going to do once she got in contact with an investigator, otherwise she would've asked him. Gendry didn't really want to tell her that one of his close mates was a very talented investigator, because…he didn't even know what she wanted.

"Why?" he asked, trying to sound polite.

"I just…want to look into some things. _Important_ things that my brother doesn't need to know about."

"I kind of gathered that."

"Well, anyway, do you know any?" She looked at him, eyes narrowed slightly, right side of her lip quirking.

"Yeah…I do…do you want his number?" Gendry asked, wondering if he should tell Jon or not.

Arya's face broke out into a rather crooked grin. "Thanks _so_ much. Can I have the number, like, _now_? And don't tell Jon about this…_please_."

He nodded weakly, and grabbed a random receipt lying around and scrawled the number of Beric Dondarrion on the back of it. "Here."

She took it, and smiled slightly at him. "Thanks…for…y'know, this and…yeah."

"It's nothing," Gendry dismissed, waving it off.

Arya smiled and got out of the car, hurrying inside. He watched as Jon appeared outside, and threw his arms around her, probably lecturing her about sneaking off or something along those lines. Gendry couldn't help but smile slightly. He didn't really feel like a cigarette, even though it had been nearly two hours since his last.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, nice little moment at the end there. I'm probably not going to update for another week...but maybe I'll have one of these days where I just sit at the computer writing fanfiction…oh well! I thought I'd be good and post it, instead of waiting a few days and pretending I'm actually doing something.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and faved, and a special thank you to **merrylyn** and **anonymous-lemonade**. They're reviews were really helpful, just to give me an idea of what people enjoyed and they were nice and long and informative. Thank you to everyone else, though, as well, I appreciate all of them.

Sorry about any mistakes!

-Zamire


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I'm sorry if this chapter seems like it doesn't really…flow. I tried to make it flow as best as I could, but…I'm not sure, it just…yeah. Season 3 has officially ended and looks like we'll be waiting another whole year…oh well. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**-The Key to Happiness-**

**-Chapter 4-**

Sansa didn't want to leave her bedroom ever again. She wanted to stay huddled under the covers in her Stars Wars pyjamas – courtesy of Arya – and never talk to _anyone_, especially Loras. Margaery seemed apologetic about the whole thing, but that didn't make the whole affair less completely awkward and nerve-wracking. Dinner had been something Sansa _never_ wanted to relive, and she supposed she should be thankful for the fact that Cersei wasn't there, and was still in King's Landing. Then again, that didn't seem to stop Joffrey's pile of questions for her.

"How's your father going, Sansa?"

"Are you dating anyone, Sansa?"

"Is your sister still her happy old self, Sansa?"

She hated how he said her name, and her discomfort must have been obvious. To her surprise, it hadn't been Margaery who had stuck up for her at dinner, but Tyrion Lannister. It was clear that he loathed his nephew, which, in Sansa's eyes, was perfectly understandable.

Someone was knocking on Sansa's door, yet it certainly wouldn't be Joffrey. Her ex-boyfriend would have undoubtedly just waltzed in like he owned the place, which unfortunately for her, he did.

"Sansa? Are you in there?" It was Margaery, and her voice was so soft and concerned that it caused the tears in Sansa's eyes to well up all over again. "Sansa, please open the door. I'm worried about you."

It was natural for Margaery to be worried, she couldn't help but note. They were close friends, and Sansa had locked herself in her room straight after dinner, refusing desert, even though it was lemon cakes, her favourite. She didn't know if the desert had been made _for_ her or as some patronizing display of unwanted affection from Joffrey Baratheon. Either way, she hadn't left the room since.

"Sansa, _please_!" Margaery begged. Sansa didn't get why Margaery wasn't just opening the door herself. There was no lock on it, to her dismay.

"The door's open," she said quietly, wondering if her friend could hear her from under the covers of her bed.

Either Margaery had heard her or simply decided that she would come in anyway, and the door opened to reveal her friend, looking beautiful as she always did.

"Sansa…" the youngest Tyrell whispered, "I am _so_ sorry." Margaery crawled under the covers with her.

"It's okay," Sansa mumbled, quickly wiping away her tears. "We won't be here for long, will we…?"

Her friend stared at her apologetically. "Loras won't tell me…and neither will Joffrey, either, which is no surprise."

"I can just stay with Arya and Jon…they'd…take me in."

"Could you?" Margaery sounded hopeful, yet not in a rude way.

"I think so…" Sansa whispered, feeling scared. They'd take her in, wouldn't they? There was no reason why they shouldn't…

"It's okay, Sansa. Just…please come down and eat something. It's nearly midday, and you haven't had anything since dinner."

"Is _he_ down there?"

The youngest Tyrell sibling sighed. "Yes, he is…but I'll be there with you."

Sansa nodded weakly, not knowing what else to do. She couldn't be bothered changing, as she was still in yesterday's clothes. Besides, she shouldn't have to _look good_ for him. Margaery took Sansa's hand is hers, and led her out of the room Joffrey had given her. Naturally the room had been fully furnished and incredibly beautiful, but she felt like he was almost mocking her. Then again, all of the rooms in the house seemed just as elegant as hers.

The only people in the dining room were Joffrey and Sandor Clegane, neither who were eating anything. Her ex-boyfriend seemed to be just slouching in a seat casually, not really paying attention to anything. His bodyguard was at the back of the grand dining room, his arms folded and eyes closed. When Sansa and Margaery entered, though, Joffrey perked up instantly, a dangerous smile on his face.

"Sansa!" he exclaimed, his blue eyes sparkling. "Sit beside me." He completely ignored Margaery, his eyes only for her, and once that would have flattered and made her delighted, but now…

She sat beside him anyway, retreating into a shell that she had perfected so many times. Arya had taught her a few things, as well. Margaery sat on the other side of Joffrey, while Sandor remained unmoving.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, leaning in far too close.

"I slept fine, thank you for asking. What about you?" Sansa replied automatically, staring straight ahead at Margaery, who looked anxious.

Joffrey seemed annoyed that she wasn't paying attention to him. "Fine," he snapped, before shifting in his seat. "There's food here, unless you want to be as skinny as your bitchy sister."

Sansa stared at the food on the table, not wanting to eat it. It all looked delicious, that much was true, but it felt like eating something from…the _enemy_.

"Sansa has already eaten," Margaery cut in, pursing her lips. Joffrey glared at her, but seemed to maintain his composure.

"Then eat more. Look at you, Sansa, you're like a twig."

She ignored the insult, and continued staring straight ahead. "I'm fine."

Joffrey slammed his fist on the table loudly. "_Just fucking eat the thing_!"

Sandor Clegane seemed to step forward, as if about to do something, but stopped. Margaery stood up, fuming, and Sansa simply sat there, too scared to do anything. It reminded her of things…things that…

"We'll be going. Sansa can eat at a café with me," her friend said, sounding courteous as usual, but there was anger in her eyes. "Oh, and, _Joff_, she will most likely be staying with her siblings. Let's go, Sansa."

Her legs felt shaky, but she forced herself to stand, and walked out of the dining room. Even when she was halfway down the hallway which led to the front door, she still heard his annoying voice echo.

"I doubt they'll want her."

The lunch with Margaery went far too quickly. Sansa ate little, and the bit she did was only due to her friend's coaxing. She _knew_ Joffrey wanted something from her, and that thing he had said…he hadn't been spreading nasty rumours, had he?

"Maybe I should just give in to Joffrey," Sansa mumbled pathetically as they drove back to the mansion.

Her friend glared at her. "No. Absolutely not. You can't just give in to him! That's exactly what he wants."

Sansa nodded weakly, and when the arrived back 'home, she got out and walked numbly to the front door. To no one's surprise at all, Joffrey was waiting there, except he was…_right there_, by the entrance, smiling charmingly.

"You're back," he greeted, his voice patronising. "Did you enjoy your lunch?"

"Yes, thank you," Sansa replied, her tone clipped and controlled. Margaery put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Margaery, I'd like some time alone with Sansa. If you could excuse us?" he asked loudly, his blue eyes darting towards her friend.

The Tyrell woman smiled thinly. "Of course," she said, almost too quickly.

Sansa stared at her in shock as she left, but Margaery only looked back apologetically and tried to smile reassuringly. _Nothing can reassure me_, she thought sadly as she stared into Joffrey Baratheon's cruel blue eyes.

* * *

They were in the middle of the godswood again, but it was light this time, and the sun was shining brightly, and they were holding hands. Arya had no idea why…in fact, when had Gendry even taken her hand in his? She felt peaceful, though, more so than she had in a long time. There was a breeze which reminded her Braavos, and the beautiful beaches in it. She felt safe, protected and _comfortable_, and wondered if Gendry felt the same. They never talked, though, just simple stayed silent, enjoying each others company.

Arya felt nervous when she felt his gaze turn towards her, his blue eyes sparkling lightly. She liked his eyes, because they were so kind and _not_ like Joffrey's, even though they were the same colour. It was hard to find the courage to finally turn to face him, and when she did she noticed he was staring intently at her, as if searching for something.

"What?" Arya demanded, feeling weird all over. She felt hot and tingly, and it wasn't just because of the sun beating down on them. Was it always this hot in Winterfell?

Gendry smiled softly at her, and without warning lifted a hand and gently touched the side of her face. She stared at him, unable to do anything, because _what was he doing_? How had they even gotten to the godswood? She couldn't remember, couldn't think, because all she could see was Gendry slowly moving closer to her, tilting his head slightly, as if to kiss her and –

He suddenly stopped, chuckled, and muttered something inaudible.

"What?" she asked, feeling confused.

Suddenly the sun seemed to disappear, as if a massive cloud had just covered it up. His soft gaze was now angry, almost confused. "No one would ever want you," he suddenly said, and Arya stared at him. Everything changed, the godswood distorting itself, Gendry's face transforming itself into Joffrey's, and suddenly she saw her father, standing there, looking panicked and sad.

"Arya, I'm so sorry," he whispered, and she was crying, more than she ever had before.

"Dad!" Arya shouted desperately, running towards him but he just kept moving away, moving backwards even though he wasn't walking. "Dad, wait!"

"Tell Jon I'm sorry. I wish I could explain everything. I'm so sorry, Arya."

She tried to scream, but nothing came out, and it was so _painful_. Her body felt raw and exposed, and she heard Joffrey's taunts and laughter, and Jon was there, staring down at her with disappoint.

"I trusted you," he said, his words bitter and harsh. Jon disappeared, and was replaced by Robb, who had a crown on his head.

"Why did you do this, Arya?" Robb asked, his gaze commanding and questioning. She was in a throne room, she realised, and it looked like something out of her mythology books. Gendry was standing beside him, looking torn and hurt and betrayed.

"Why did you leave?" her stubborn roommate demanded to know, stepping forward.

"No, please – I don't know what you're talking about!" Arya screamed, turning around and running. Yet all around her she could see her father, except _he had no head_, and oh god, what was even happening to her? She kept running, but everyone was taunting her, telling her how useless she was, and her father, he was screaming, he was –

Arya screamed for real this time, flinging the covers off her bed. The sun was shining brightly outside her window, indicating yet another good day. She felt sick, and her skin was all clammy and sweaty, and she couldn't even remember what she had dreamed of. It had felt nice at the start, all lovely and warm, but then…she couldn't even remember.

"Arya!" someone shouted, and suddenly Jon was standing at her door, looking concerned and worried. "Are you okay, sis?"

She took a deep breath, and then immediately regretted it. "I'm going to be sick," she managed to choke out, before running to the upstairs bathroom. Arya vomited up everything she had eaten yesterday, which wasn't much. Yesterday had been as awful as the days before, and three days ago…

No, she wouldn't think of Joffrey Baratheon and his little smirk and that damn will.

"Are you okay, sis?" Jon asked once she came out of the bathroom. Her brother had politely waited outside, for reasons unknown.

"Bad dream," she rasped, her throat feeling sore and unused.

"Are you sure…? You were screaming pretty loudly."

"Yeah…like I said before, bad dream. I'll be fine."

Jon looked at her disbelievingly and sighed. "Listen…I'm not good with these things, okay? Why don't you…talk to Catelyn, or something? You can even go back to Jack or whatever that guys name was…"

"I'm not talking to mum," Arya said, glaring at him slightly. "And it's _Jaqen_, not Jack.

"Why don't you go back to him?"

"He's in _Harrenhal_."

Her brother rolled his eyes. "Look, just think about it, at least. I hope you're hungry, anyway, because it's nearly noon, and we'll be heading out to Robb and Theon's for lunch."

"Will Sansa be there?" she asked bluntly.

"No. Why would she be?" Jon's tone was harsh and cold.

They stared at each other for a moment, understanding in their eyes, before Arya shook her head. "Okay then. I'll go get ready."

Jon left her alone and went downstairs, and she went back to her room to get changed into something more presentable. Tonight she was going to visit Beric Dondarrion for details about the case. Arya had already called him, with Gendry beside her, and they had both plotted out details of when she would be visiting. Naturally, she didn't tell Gendry anything about what she wanted this Dondarrion person to investigate, but he either didn't mind or ignored it. In the end, she chose some old jeans and a t-shirt, and hurried downstairs where Jon was waiting.

"Where's Gendry?" Arya asked when she realised the annoying blue eyed man wasn't there with him.

"He decided to arrive there before him." When Jon saw her face, he laughed. "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll be able to handle Theon."

* * *

It had been three days since Joffrey Baratheon had shown up on Arya's doorsteps, and she hadn't mentioned it to anyone, not even Jon. She couldn't tell Sansa, because, well…_obviously_ she already knew. Arya didn't care about Sansa at the moment ever since their argument the night before over the phone. Her sister had called, pleading for a place to stay, _begging_. Of course Arya had refused. She wasn't going to accept after what Sansa had done. No one else was mentioning it either, so why should she?

They were all at Robb and Theon's, celebrating something unknown. Everyone knew it was just an excuse to see each other and get drunk. Arya was feeling alright for once, glad that her family was _kind of_ together. Robb and Theon were there, as well as her brother's girlfriend Jeyne – _not_ to be mistaken as bloody Jeyne Poole – as well as Jon, Gendry and Ygritte. They had even invited Edmure, and one of his many new girlfriends. Roslin wasn't there, mainly because she was Sansa's friend, and also one of Theon's many ex-girlfriends.

Everyone was gathered around the tiny table in Robb and Theon's, shouting and demanding more beer and wine. Gendry had cooked a lot of food for the meal, making lasagne, salad, chicken pie and bringing a bottle of nice red wine, even though he didn't drink it. There were also plenty of sweet things, like a rich chocolate cake, a pavlova and…_lemon_ _cakes_. Arya didn't want to think about lemon cakes, because it reminded her of Sansa.

"Oh my god, Theon, _not this one_," Robb snapped from his place at the head of the table. Theon was, as usual, sharing inappropriate stories, and Arya could see Gendry looked horrified yet amused at the same time.

"Oh c'mon, Robb, lighten up! Anyway, so we all know my boss, Ramsay…oh _wait_, Gendry, you're here! My boss is Ramsay Bolton, dunno if you've ever heard of him? Absolutely hideous creature? Bastard of Roose Bolton, who used to work with Ned Stark?"

"Never heard of him," Gendry admitted, taking a sip of his beer.

"Well, one time he got this guy off the street – god, I didn't even realise we were that short on co-workers, but anyway – and I swear, he smelt _so bad_. Ramsay seemed to like him a lot though, far more than he ever liked me, which isn't saying much mind you. We all called him Reek, and none of us really knew what his real name was."

"Theon, we've heard this one a thousand times," Jon called out from the other side of the table. Ygritte, beside him, was a bright red, clearly drunk out of her mind. Arya quite liked Jon's girlfriend, just like Gendry had said, mainly because she was just so…blunt, not to mention funny and beautiful.

"Oh shut up, pretty boy. Go back to making out with your girlfriend," Theon retorted, gulping down a large amount of beer, before beginning to cough.

"Oh god, here he goes," Arya heard Jeyne mutter, politely turning away from her boyfriend's best friend. Theon had always been an awful drinker, despite his boastings. In fact, most things he boasted about, he was usually terrible at.

"Alright, alright," Robb said, after thumping Theon on the back. "Let's move on. What about you, Gendry, any stories to tell?"

Gendry seemed to turn away as everyone's eyes fell on him. Arya stared at him as well, from her spot next to him. She had been placed in between him and Jon.

"Well, not particularly…but I have a question," he replied politely.

Edmure grinned, and gripped his blonde girlfriend by the waist tighter. "Ask away, then!"

"Why isn't Sansa here?"

For a moment, everyone stared at him, as if he had grown an extra head. Arya wanted to hit him, because how could anyone be so _stupid_? He didn't even know Sansa, didn't even care about her, so why would he ask such a thing? Everyone at the table seemed to grow uneasy, not sure how to reply. She doubted that any of them would yell at him for being rude, because even though Robb was a massive tight ass and Theon a dick, they wouldn't say anything.

So, Arya simply did what she thought was right. She stood up, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him away from the table and outside of Robb and Theon's house. Ghost and Grey Wind were fighting playfully in the backyard when they exited the house.

"Arya, for fucks sake, _stop_!" Gendry snapped when they were out of earshot, shoving her away.

"Are you really that _stupid_?" she countered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, it's an honest question! Sansa…she's your _sister_."

"So? You don't know what's happened!"

"Which is why I'm _asking_." Gendry was glaring at her, his blue eyes shining with ferocity.

"She's dating fucking Joffrey again, okay?" Arya finally said, turning away from him straight as she said it and beginning to walk back towards the house, but Gendry grabbed her shoulder firmly and spun her around.

"What do you _mean_? You don't honestly believe that, do you?"

"What do _you_ mean? Of course I believe it, everyone's talking about it. People say they've seen them holding hands and…_kissing_."

"But have you seen them?" Gendry snapped, still holding her shoulder.

"Well, _no_. Why would everyone lie, though?" Arya snapped.

"Joffrey's a manipulative prick. He could figure something out."

"Why can't you just _realise_ that Sansa is fucking dating Joffrey again?"

"There's no proof!"

For a moment, they both glared at each other, before Arya huffed and looked away. She never usually looked away, but today…she was exhausted and confused from her nightmare, and hadn't Gendry been it…? The dream was still vague to her, though.

"Look, I'm sorry," he finally said, sounding sincere yet still angry. "I just think you should have a little more trust in her, as she's your sister."

"Yeah, well, we've never really been close," Arya countered sheepishly. "Anyway, can we not talk about this? You should probably go back in there and apologise for being a complete idiot."

Gendry rolled his eyes. "I will, but don't think it's because of _you_."

"I'd never think such a thing."

She saw him smile slightly, even though he tried to hide it. They both went back inside, ignoring Grey Wind and Ghost's whines at them to play. Everything seemed to have gone back to normal, with Edmure cracking inappropriate jokes that had double meanings and Ygritte making even worse comebacks. Most of them ignored it when they both slipped back into their seats, and Gendry didn't have to apologise, due to the fact that no one brought it up.

"Can we have desert now?" Edmure's girlfriend asked, her voice high and whiny.

Theon muttered something rude under his breath, causing Robb to elbow him sharply. Jeyne, however, smiled widely. "Of course. I think there's chocolate cake and a pavlova…and didn't you make lemon cakes, Theon?"

"_Theon_ made the lemon cakes?" Jon interjected, staring at the Greyjoy. "I don't think we should even touch them."

"Oh shut it, pretty boy. I'm surprised you can't cook, you look so much like a girl."

"That's sexist, Theon," Arya snapped.

"Oh, I'm sorry Arya, I _didn't notice_."

Everyone started to laugh, while Theon just smiled his usual annoying smile. Arya rolled her eyes, yet it was still…nice to be with everyone again. Even Edmure's girlfriend, who looked like she was trying to slide her hand down his pants without anyone noticing.

Jeyne got up and began serving desert, and maybe it was just a coincidence, but Arya noticed no one touched the lemon cakes, and she didn't think it was because Theon made them.

* * *

Gendry loved it when he had no classes or lectures, when he could just lie in bed and relax and drink as much coffee as he wanted. Even though he had gone with Arya and Jon to Robb and Theon's little gathering, the rest of the day was still free to use. From what he could gather, Arya was planning to go to Beric Dondarrion, presumably about her father's death. Or at least that's the conclusion he had stumbled upon.

It was a sunny day yet again, and Gendry felt like he was wasting it, lying on his bed inside, listening to his iPod and thinking. He knew that if he went out he would have to take Ghost, though, as Ygritte had seemed to have had enough of the dog. When they had left Robb and Theon's, she gladly handed him over. To Gendry, that was perfectly understandable. Ghost was so big…and had an uncanny sense of knowing when his owner was displeased. According to Arya, though, that was how all their dogs had been, ever since they had been found on the outskirts of Winterfell on a family bike ride.

He sighed, and stretched lazily. It wasn't like he had to go anywhere, as he could just walk around leisurely and not do much. Jon had gone off to band practise, while Arya was still in her room, studying. She had come back from a lecture nearly an hour ago.

Gendry stood up from his bed, taking one of his earphones out and making his way to her room. The door was open, and she was sprawled out on the floor, a great deal of art stuff surrounding her. A big sketchbook was in the middle, and she seemed to be sketching a landscape or something along those lines.

"It looks good," he commented offhandedly. She looked up, startled, and then rolled her eyes.

"Thanks," Arya said, turning her attention back to the sketchbook.

"Well, I'm going for a walk. When are you meeting with Beric?"

She glared at him. "I told you to _not_ mention that."

"Yeah, it's kinda hard not to, y'know. Anyway, it doesn't matter. You can do what you want. It's not like I'm your brother or anything," Gendry said lazily, stretching yet again. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you." It was clear that Arya wasn't paying much attention to him as she continued to sketch.

He left her to it and hurried downstairs and outside. As he thought, Ghost jumped up where he was tied up and bounded over to him, barking playfully. Gendry untied the leash keeping him tied up and whistled. The dog trotted obediently by his leg as he walked out of the front yard and onto the street.

Gendry didn't exactly know where he was going, but he kept walking anyway, deciding to head to the university grounds. Sure, he hated the place, but the grounds were nice and clean and sunny, and maybe there would be a stick there for Ghost to play with. He made his way there, his iPod on full blast with Ghost trotting beside him.

The university grounds only contained a few people, most simply sitting down and talking. Gendry walked through the grounds, occasionally waving at a few people he recognised from classes and around, while Ghost ran around for a bit, weaving and dancing through the crowds of people. He found an empty bench and sat down, closing his eyes and leaning back, soaking up the sunshine.

He didn't know how long he sat there for, but it wasn't until he heard Ghost barking that he finally opened his eyes. The dog was right beside him, surprisingly, and looking agitated.

"What is it?" Gendry asked, sitting up and stretching. As a response, the dog got up and began to run to the entrance of the uni grounds. "Ghost, wait up!" It wasn't until he saw what the dog was running to that he stopped moving. There, at the entrance of the grounds, was Joffrey and who could only be Sansa. Jon had showed him photos of her, and Arya had told him of her appearance. What made it even worse was that she was holding hands with Joffrey, and there was a small tight smile on her face. She didn't look happy, but then again she wasn't exactly running away from him.

It was Sansa who saw Ghost bounding up to her, and she froze in surprise. Gendry hurried over to them, wanting to make sure the damn dog wasn't going to do anything nasty.

"Ghost!" he called, and he felt Sansa and Joffrey's eyes on him as he made his way over.

Arya's sister was, as she had said, beautiful, and looked at him, startled, while Joffrey glared with a half-smile on his face.

"Gendry," he greeted thinly. "You got a dog?"

"No, its Jon's," Gendry replied icily, grabbing the dog by the scruff and dragging him away from Sansa.

"Have you met my girlfriend? You'd probably know her as your roommates' sister, though. I don't think you've met?"

"No. We haven't."

He knew he was being cold, yet Sansa didn't look offended in the slightest. She looked more…disappointed.

"I'm Sansa," she told him, smiling almost elegantly.

"Arya told me you came to Winterfell with the Tyrells. I didn't know you were staying with Joffrey," Gendry said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Sansa smiled. "Joff kindly took us in and well…we kind of just…I've never stopped loving him."

_Joff? She calls him Joff? And didn't Arya say that Sansa had well and truly hated Joffrey?_ He was confused, yet she didn't look sad or anything. Maybe she was just hiding it well?  
"How are you doing, Gendry? How's the engineering going?" Joffrey interrupted his thoughts, smiling coldly.

"Fine. What about you? How's Baratheon Corp. going?"

It seemed to be a bad question to ask, for the blonde man suddenly got all flustered and annoyed. "As good as it's ever been," he said, yet it was a clear lie.

Ghost was still struggling against Gendry's hands, and he decided to leave. The conversation was so…tense and he didn't particularly feel like talking to Joffrey.

"I should be going," he told them quickly, grabbing Ghost and hauling him to the other side of his body. "Maybe I'll see you both later."

"Of course, Gendry. We haven't talked in ages, though, so I might give you a call," Joffrey said. "I'll see you around."

It sounded almost like a threat, but the man hadn't really said anything completely nasty, so Gendry ignored it and began to walk off.

"It was nice meeting you!" Sansa called from behind him.

He turned back and smiled tightly. "You too."

Gendry ran home, with Ghost bounding ahead of him, still looking slightly agitated. He didn't want to believe that Arya had been right, because…well, he had been so sure that she was wrong. From what Jon and Arya had told him about Sansa, she just didn't seem likely to do that…but clearly, he had been wrong. _I still think it's a bit harsh of them to not even invite her or give her a chance to explain herself_, he thought dryly. There was probably a good reason.

When Gendry arrived back at home, he tied Ghost up outside and entered the house. Arya was lounging on the couch eating potato chips, to his surprise. She had been eating better, lately, which was good. She looked up when he entered, and at once got up and went towards him.

"Look…" she began, "I know I said that I didn't want you to mention the whole Dondarrion thing…but…"

"Yes?" Gendry pressed.

"Could you take me there? If I took my car, Jon will honestly get all big brotherly and over-protective on me, but if he sees us both gone and _your _car is gone, he won't."

He rolled his eyes. "First, you don't tell me anything _and_ tell me to forget about it, and now you want me to take you?"

Arya grinned at him. "Yeah, exactly. Oh, and, by the way, when I say you _taking_ me there, I mean you take me there every time…not just this once."

"That's…a bit…don't you think that's too much to ask?" He tried to ignore the smile spreading across his face, just because _she_ smiled and laughed and grinned.

"Not at all. Can we go now? I'm meant to be there at four, and it's, what, ten to?"

Gendry smiled at her, and he saw her freeze slightly, but then grin back at him. "Let's go, then."

They headed outside, and both of them ignored Ghost pulling against his leash as they made their way to Gendry's rather average Holden. He got in the drivers seat while she got in the passenger, and he began to drive to Beric's.

"How do you know this…Beric Dondarrion, anyway?" Arya asked.

"Old friend, I suppose. I met him when I was living in King's Landing. He was a part-time professor there. He helped me out a lot," he explained.

"How _old_ is this guy?"

"Who knows? He's good at what he does, though."

"So…you've asked him to investigate things?" Arya looked at him, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Yeah, only once. It didn't cost much and…I found out what I wanted."

She still stared at him, and Gendry rolled his eyes.

"You're not going to tell me?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Why would I? You're not telling me why you're going."

Arya smiled slightly. "Fair enough."

The rest of the car trip was spent in a comfortable silence, and finally Gendry pulled up outside Beric's familiar office, which was on the outskirts of Winterfell. It was a small cramped apartment, and it held no sign that Beric was actually a P.I and not some random citizen. That was what he had wanted, though.

"Is this it?" Arya asked, frowning at the place. "It looks…like a dump."

Gendry laughed and nodded as he stopped the car and turned it off. They got out and began to walk towards the door, and he knocked on it loudly. It took a few moments before Beric finally came to the door, and opened it.

He looked worse than he had last time Gendry had seen him. His hair seemed to be falling out, he was a lot skinnier, and his eyes weren't as kind as he remembered. Arya stared at him in shock.

"Gendry," Beric greeted. "And you…" For a moment he stared. "You're Arya Stark."

"You know me?" she asked, looking flustered.

_Of course he knows you_, Gendry thought dryly,_ we called him a few days ago._ Yet he knew why she was asking, as Beric had never seen her before and had no way of really knowing…

"I knew your father…I worked with him for awhile. I'm very sorry."

Arya bit her lip, and Gendry gave her a friendly nudge with his hip. "She wants you to investigate something. She won't tell me what, though. Do you mind if I just wait around in the lounge?" he asked.

"Of course. Thoros isn't here, unfortunately, but I'll tell him you dropped by. Come in, you two."

They both entered the crummy apartment, and Beric led Arya through to his office, while Gendry simply made his way to the lounge. It was the same as it had been when he had come to Beric, with a few scruffy couches and a simple T.V, as well as the kitchen which was connected to it. Unfortunately, the office was connected to the lounge as well, and Gendry could clearly see Arya and Beric discussing things. He couldn't hear them, though.

To his surprise, it didn't take as long as he thought. He had thought it would take nearly half an hour, but after Beric had given Arya some kind of folder, she had read it for nearly ten minutes and that was it. They both left the office, Arya looking a lot more sombre than she had before, clutching a folder tightly to her chest.

"Are you going back?" Gendry asked, when she made her way towards him.

She nodded. "Next week, same time."

Beric was standing in the doorway of his office, smiling. "It was nice meeting you finally, Arya. Your father spoke nothing but praise about you."

She smiled at him. "Thank you."

"I'll do my best to find out as much as I can."

They left the apartment in silence, Gendry not wanting to ask her what had happened.

"Is everything…okay?"

"Yeah. It's just…I mean, yeah. Everything's okay."

He rolled his eyes at her antics. Sometimes Arya seemed to think she was smart and fooling everyone…or maybe she just did that on purpose.

"Did Beric help with whatever you wanted?" he questioned.

"He said he'd help me with a few things and gave me some helpful stuff as well," Arya told him distantly as they got inside the car.

The car trip was spent in silence, something which Gendry was thankful for.

* * *

The manila folder was on her desk, with many dents and rips from the amount of times Arya had handled it. She had opened it countless times, and sorted through its contents. When Beric had handed it to her, she knew he didn't want her to see it. Yet she had, and she regretted it. There was…a name in it, which scared her to bits. She didn't want to think or look into it. Arya began to wonder if she had been left in the dark the entire time, due to her…lapse.

It wasn't very full, only containing a few slips of paper, and there wasn't any incriminating evidence against Joffrey Baratheon or anything of the sort. Instead, it just contained evidence that Ned Stark hadn't actually died from the stress and his extremely high blood pressure. She sighed and opened the folder once again, looking through its contents. There was a small autopsy report written in loopy handwriting, and a police case neatly typed.

_**Autopsy Report:**_

_Eddard Stark_

_Chief of Winterfell_

_Born: 17__th__ August, 1975_

_Died: 25__th__ October, 2010_

_Cause: Unknown. No trace of any disease or heart issues, no notable wounds, no suspicious substances found in blood stream._

_**Police Investigation:**_

_Victim: Eddard Stark_

_Suspects: No evidence found against any; however some include – Cersei Baratheon, Joffrey Baratheon, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Gendry Waters_

_Witnesses: Catelyn Stark, Robb Stark, Jon Snow_

_Information: Wife of the victim claims that she suspects the Baratheon's to be part of it, as well as claiming that the victim met up with a young adult (G. Waters) several days before his demise. Son of the victim says that he thinks that the Baratheons and Lannisters are involved, as does the presumed son Jon Snow._

_Case was closed on January 3__rd__, 2011, due to no new leads or evidence._

That name was there. _Gendry Waters_. He was written neatly into the suspects, and _he had met her dad_. Gendry couldn't not know, as he had heard Jon and her talk about him nearly half a hundred times. And if Jon's name was written in the folder, had he seen it? Then again, Arya didn't even know how Beric Dondarrion got hold of the file, though he claimed he had access to most police records as he was a rather…professional P.I.

It had been nearly four days since she had visited Beric, and still she hadn't talked to Gendry about it. She had very nearly confronted Jon, and had contemplated calling Robb and asking him, yet she decided against it. Surely Gendry had a perfect legitimate reason for speaking with her father just _days_ before his death? And how did Catelyn know about that, as well? Had her dad been investigating something before his death? Her mother as well?

Arya had relentlessly fired these questions at Beric, asking him to try and find out as much as possible. Naturally he had agreed, not only because he used to work for her father, but also because he thought that the claims the Baratheons and Lannisters were the cause of his death were true. She doubted Tyrion did it, even though his name was written there. It was odd that they hadn't included Jaime, for if anything she would suspect _him_ more than his mutated brother. With Tywin Lannister…well she had never even met that man, so it wasn't like she could say much about him. He resided in King's Landing.

She had always been angry at her dad's old friend Robert, simply for causing their family this much trouble. Ned had already been working under Robert, so why did he need to take over Baratheon Corp.? And what _was_ that damn company? Arya felt stupid for not knowing anything, but that was why she had asked for help from Beric.

"Arya?" a voice interrupted her thoughts, and she quickly shoved the folder under her pillow. Jon was at the door, smiling slightly. "Oh, sorry, I thought you weren't up yet."

"It's bloody twelve o'clock, Jon. I'm not _that_ lazy," she said dryly.

"Well, anyway, are you ready for your lecture? It starts in nearly half an hour, and if you plan to walk again…"

"I'll drive. Can I take your car?"

Jon nodded, and started to leave but stopped suddenly. "You look a bit better than you did a few days ago."

Arya shrugged. It was true, in a way. A whole week of university had passed, and she was feeling more confident. Mythology was a breeze, and graphics was simple as well. Her teacher, Ternesio Terys, who was from Braavos, was slightly…strange, and used to be a sailor, until he retired. Everyone simply called him Terry, though, because his name was too long and complicated, like most Braavosi names.

She grabbed the folder and shoved it in its usual hidden place, in one of the mysterious drawers on her bedside table. Arya was still wearing her pyjama's, because…well, why not? There was a pair of plain jeans and an over sized tee lying on the ground, so she grabbed them, took off her pyjamas and slipped the rather baggy clothes on. It was comfortable, and that's really all she cared about.

When she went downstairs, Gendry was lying on the couch, watching the T.V, while Jon was busy in the kitchen. Both of them greeted her when they saw her.

"Hey," she said, grabbing her bag from beside the door. "Is there anything to eat?"

"Not really. Just grab a piece of bread or something," Jon told her, reaching over and tossing a bag of sliced bread to her.

"Wow, thanks."

Her brother rolled his eyes. "I doubt you care."

She smiled at him, grabbed a piece of bread and the keys before hurrying out the door. "See you!" she shouted behind her.

Arya drove to university as quickly as possible for her lecture. When she hurried to Room 18, a lecture room, most people were already seated. Edric Dayne was also there, and he waved her over.

"How are you going?" he asked politely, patting the seat next to him.

She sat down, and smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

"Great." Ned seemed about to say something else, but Tyrion entered, and the class became quiet.

The lecture went quickly, as Tyrion explained things calmly and also added interesting touches to his speeches. Arya found it easy to take notes, and she filled up her page in no time at all, understand all of the concepts.

"…Some claim that Persephone had fallen in love with Hades. However, if you read further into it, the theories claiming that aren't very…factual and straight. I doubt you'd fall in love with a God who kidnapped you and planned to keep you there as his little pet for awhile…"

When the lecture finally ended, there was a series of stretching and yawns as everyone picked up their books and notes. Ned was smiling at her as she packed up hers.

"Do you find mythology interesting?" he asked, picking up his bag and beginning to walk out of the room.

"Yeah…I'm not sure, I just like most of them. Some of them are boring, though," Arya said, following him.

Tyrion waved at them as they left, and she wanted to bring up the whole police thing, but decided against it. If her professor truly _was_ a suspect and actually did kill her father, then it would be unwise to mention it to him.

"What about Persephone and Hades?"

"It's…interesting. I mean, it obviously didn't happen, but…"

"You don't think it happened? Why not?" Ned was staring at her so intently that she looked away almost shyly. _Me? Shy? When did this happen?_

"Well…I mean, there's no proof that a God even exists!" she protested.

"People say that there was once a God called R'hllor, and another called the Other, and that they were constantly at war with one another."

"People _say_. There's no evidence, and yes, I know that there's no evidence that they aren't true either."

Edric Dayne laughed. "You're…different," he said eventually.

"Yeah…?"

He smiled, and opened his mouth to say something but his phone beeped loudly. They were outside, now, in the university grounds, and thankfully it wasn't one of those warm sunny days. Instead, it was cold and the wind was blowing icily.

"Is everything alright?" Arya asked when she saw Ned's facial expression turn grim.

"Sorry, I have to go. Something's happened…family stuff, y'know?" he explained quickly, shoving his phone in his pocket.

"Yeah," she replied dryly as Ned hurried off, "I know."

Arya didn't go home straight away. She drove around Winterfell for a bit, and almost contemplated visiting the pizza place which Hot Pie claimed he worked at, but decided against it. Her old friend wasn't exactly at the top on her priorities list at the moment.

Several people waved at her as she drove around the town, most likely recognising her as being Ned Stark's daughter. When he had been alive, she had always walked around town with him, simply looking at the sights. Even though the Starks had been in Winterfell for ages, and her father had been there since he was born, Ned had often said that there was always something different about their home every time you walked around, if you looked close enough.

She drove for ages, going into places she had never been. At around four, Arya decided to walk, wanting to go to several memorable alleyways which contained graffiti that Ned and she had both enjoyed. The alleyway was easy to find once she parked her car outside it, and the graffiti was still the same, swirls of colours and pictures. Once, she had considered being a graffiti artist, but had decided against it. Designing was her thing.

Footsteps behind her alerted her, and when Arya spun around she saw a man standing there, dressed in black. His face wasn't covered or anything of the sort, and she didn't recognise him at all, even though there was something _vaguely_ familiar about him.

"Are you Arya Stark?" The man's voice was commanding and hoarse, and oh god, he was a giant.

She didn't respond, and instead stared at him in fright. He began to approach her slowly, and she knew that this was about the time that she would _run_. Yet her legs were frozen, and it was like that time when Joffrey had visited her. The man made a move to grab her, but Arya ducked underneath his legs, using her small frame as an advantage, and began to run. Her car was in view, and she was nearly there, she could make it…

His hands grabbed her shoulders and slammed her into the brick wall with so much force that for a moment she saw stars in her vision. Arya moved without sight, kicking in random places and making pathetic punches. When her vision finally returned, she realised that her punches must not have been _that_ pathetic, because the man seemed to be at a safe distance.

"_Who are you_?" she snapped, going into a defensive stance that…well, she had seen people do it in movies.

The man laughed, and it was cruel and hoarse and scared her. Her head ached and there was blood dripping down her face. He reached out again and she dodged, not bothering to go for her car. They were further down the alleyway than they had been previously, and she couldn't see anyone around. _Where's everyone gone? There were people here a second ago…_

Arya kept dodging, unsure what to do. She kept looking back to her car, aching to run down there, but how? Her momentary thoughts distracted her, and a fist connected with her face and she felt her teeth rattle at the impact, and _had one just fallen out_? The reality of the situation finally sank in as she lay on the ground and the man approached her. _He's taunting me, right? He wouldn't kill me, no, he can't!_

He grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt and pulled her up effortlessly. Arya struggled vainly against his grip.

"You look like your fucking father," he informed her almost conversationally, before slamming her on the ground viciously.

This time, she didn't hesitate to run to her car once her vision cleared and she got up. She was faster than him, _she had to be_. He was so big and she was small, it made sense, didn't it? His footsteps were loud and she could hear him, but couldn't even vaguely sense where he was. Her vision was going all strange and distorted, and her whole face _ached_. Arya reached her car, and she rummaged around in her pockets, looking for her car keys.

"_Hurry up_!" she screamed at herself, spilling all kind of things out of her pockets. The man reached her effortlessly, and when Arya turned she paled instantly. He was holding a gun and smiling cruelly at her.

"You Starks are all the same. Your fucking sister is probably even stronger than you."

_Sansa_. Was she okay? Arya was confused as she stared at the man, and she hardly felt scared when she heard him flick the safety lock off. _You were so eager to die before, so why should it matter now_? a cruel voice whispered inside her head. She opened her mouth to scream, because surely _someone_ was around, when something blurred past her vision and attacked the man. The gun dropped out of his hand, and Arya reached for it instantly.

There was a dog attacking him, and it looked familiar, so familiar…She didn't dwell on it, even as she felt the rush of excitement in her heart as she finally recognised the dog. It was attacking the man, but he was so big and Nymeria…well, as much as she loved her dog, surely…

"_Stop_!" Arya screamed hysterically, pointing the gun at the man. Nymeria seemed to sense what she was trying to do, and stopped suddenly. The man got up quickly, and…_was he fucking dusting himself off_?

He laughed at her, and spat blood on the concrete. "I bet you've never killed someone before, little lady. You fucking pathetic slut." The man lunged at her, and tried to grab the gun out of her hands. She pulled the trigger, and a bullet flew up into the sky, a loud noise filling the silent air around them. Arya felt a few fingers snap when he finally wrestled it out of her hands.

"Now _die_, you and your stupid fucking dog!" he shouted, and Nymeria and her both lunged at the same time, the adrenaline filling her up, making her forget about the pain in her heads and oh god, _her head_.

The man fell backwards, and Arya finally grabbed the gun in her left hand, the uninjured one, and ran. She kept running, not even checking if Nymeria was behind her. When she finally stopped, there were still no people around her. Arya found a bin and slammed the gun in it, and stared around her. _Someone cleared everyone out,_ she realised. The adrenaline suddenly faded, and she felt pain everywhere. Arya fell on the concrete, which was surprisingly quite comfortable.

_Just a little rest and then I'll get up,_ she thought pathetically, even though she could hear footsteps approaching her.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, I hope you enjoyed that…I'm not sure I didn't really like this chapter but oh well. Thank you to everyone reviewed, followed, faved, all that good stuff. I really hope you guys are enjoying the story so far…? I don't know haha.

I'm thinking of updating every Sunday, so hopefully that works out. Also, I was wondering what characters you guys want to see? Or if you want to see anyone else's POV's besides Sansa, Arya and Gendry? Just a few things I was wondering.

Thanks for reading!

-Zamire


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Sorry that this chapter is kind of late and quite a bit shorter? It's just that I've got a lot due this week however holidays are nearly on me! For the next two weeks, not including this week, maybe I can update twice a week. I've also finished planning out the rest of this story and I've come to the conclusion that there should be around 11 more chapters…unless I think of more moments for Gendry and Arya! Sorry for any mistakes, I'll go back and edit it some time later.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**-The Key to Happiness-**

**-Chapter 5-**

Arya knew perfectly well where she was. The bright lights and the putrid smell of disinfectant, and the people looking worried and anxious and sometimes the faint smell of flowers. It didn't feel like a dream, and maybe that's because it wasn't really. A simple memory, one she had perfected in tucking away at the back of her head, one of the worst she had ever experienced.

Jon was sitting next to her, rubbing her shoulder as comfort, and so was Robb and Theon and Sansa and Catelyn and Bran and Rickon and Edmure and…everyone was there, impatiently waiting. After awhile her mother was called by a nurse, and Catelyn Stark hurried over, her lovely long red hair all knotty and her face worried. They all sat there, in tense silence, until she returned, and suddenly their mother who has always been strong breaks down.

"He's gone."

Arya stared at her mother, as they all did, and it was only until Sansa howled with agony that she snapped out of it. Her body felt numb, like all the life had been sucked out of it. Jon was shaking her, whispering comforting things and telling her that everything would be alright, that they would all manage. Yet her half-brother is the first to leave King's Landing that same evening, followed by Robb and Theon in the morning. Edmure comes soon after, promising to call when he reaches Riverrun, and then Sansa disappears into the huge city of King's Landing. They all went back to Winterfell a month after Ned Stark's death, seeing no need to stay. Baratheon Corp. was a haunting memory, albeit somewhat fleeting.

The journey back to their home was silent, and everything goes chaotic at home. Arya found herself failing, Sansa…she didn't know what her sister did after hours, but it couldn't be good. Sometimes she returned with bruises on her face and tears in her eyes, yet Arya can't comfort her. All the energy inside her was gone, and that once so daring and eager growing woman is replaced by a coward, a little girl who misses her daddy.

All the pain in her chest was crushing, and sometimes she couldn't breathe in class, because it's so hard not to cry. They all know her father is dead. Ned Stark was…he _was_ Winterfell, he was everything in it. Everyone wished her the best, but why? That wouldn't bring her father back.

Her mother thought she hated everyone, her sister thought she hated the Baratheons and Lannisters, her little brothers thought she hated her family, but really Arya Stark just hated herself.

The memory kept dancing by, flickering in her vision. It felt like a dream, but wasn't. She was reliving something she had never wanted to relive, going back to the moment when everything fell apart and the 'old' Arya died. The vague pain in her chest and heart began to fade, replaced by a burning sensation in her right hand and a deep pain in her head that throbbed. Her whole body felt heavy and out of use, and she didn't know why. Had she gotten drunk when returning to Winterfell after her father's death?

Slowly, Arya felt the lines of her thoughts and dreams blur with reality, and her eyes snapped open. She wasn't in a hospital, and it didn't smell like disinfectant. It smelt like…whatever that deodorant Theon sprayed on his body every ten seconds. There was someone moving, and she could see a shadow and it definitely looked male.

"Jon?" she whispered pathetically, her throat feeling hoarse.

The person seemed to stop what he was doing and hurry over to her. It wasn't Jon, though, Arya realised as she looked closer. Her brother didn't have those bright blue eyes…She shot up immediately, her thoughts instantly going to Joffrey Baratheon.

"_Woah_! Arya, lie down!" Strong hands reached out and gripped her shoulders, trying to push her back down on the tatty couch – would Joffrey really keep a couch like that? – but she struggled against them. "Arya, its Gendry!"

She froze suddenly, and let him push her back down. His hands lingered on her shoulder, before finally pulling away completely. Gendry…_Waters_. He was suspected of her father's 'murder', he was…

_But he's also been kind and caring to you, and not to much incredibly he's hot_, a voice pointed out in her head.

"Gendry? What…what are you doing in my room?"

It wasn't her room, though, Arya knew that. She didn't have a tatty old couch in her nice new room.

Her roommate ignored her question. "What _happened_, Arya?" he demanded, sitting on the edge of the couch.

She stared at him. "What do you mean…?" she asked slowly.

"I mean, do you just _happen_ to have an explanation to why you were lying on the ground fucking _passed out_ when I found you?"

"Don't tell me you were _worried_."

Gendry glared at her, looking annoyed. "_Of course I was worried_!" he snapped harshly. "You think I wouldn't be? You disappeared, and Jon tried to call you but you wouldn't pick up. And then we find out that you left the university grounds and went on a fucking leisurely drive."

"Well, I'm sorry," Arya mumbled.

"You think _sorry_ is enough?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't have to tell you every fucking thing I do! I'm not some five year old girl who doesn't know her way around Winterfell!"

"You're fingers are broken, there's a lump on your head as well as a cut, and you have bruises all over your body…" He trailed off angrily. "And yet you're telling me that you're _sorry_?"

"Well, what do you want me to do? _Go back in time_?"

Gendry sighed exasperatedly. "Look, can you try and remember something?"

"Look," Arya snapped, "I was probably attacked, okay? Winterfell may not be as bad as Harrenhal, but it's certainly not the safest place there is."

"No, this is because you went to bloody Beric Dondarrion and starting messing around in business that's not yours."

"So my father's death isn't my business?" she demanded.

"No, look…some things are just better left…unsaid, y'know? Some things you just don't need to know," he explained.

Arya glared at him. _Like the fact that my father visited you a few days before his death_, she thought icily, but she didn't say anything. "Does it even matter?" she snapped, closing her eyes. Her head was hurting, and even though the couch was fairly comfortable she wanted to go back to her room.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Gendry said sincerely. "I was just…worried. So was Jon."

"Does he know I'm here?"

"Not yet…"

She rolled her eyes at him. "You really are stupid, aren't you? Jon's my _brother_, and you haven't even called him? How long have I been here, anyway?"

"Barely a day. You should call Jon. He'd rather hear your voice than mine," he told her.

"You think?"

* * *

The house was abnormally quiet. Sure, normally it wasn't extremely loud with shouting and laughing, but without Arya, it felt…weird. Jon hated it, and he loathed the fact that he didn't know where his sister was. She had disappeared so suddenly, and he was expecting the worst. Lately, he had been feeling like Arya was hiding something from him, which wasn't really that unusual, but still…

Gendry had gone out looking for her in the morning, and not it was nearly afternoon and Jon hadn't heard from either of them. His sister had gone missing last night, and it hadn't taken them long to notice. Almost immediately they had gone to the university, despite it being nearly nine at night. After asking around, they both found out that Arya _had_ left the university, which was possibly the worst thing they wanted to hear.

He sighed, and checked his phone yet again. There were no new messages from Gendry or Arya, only a quick text from Sam, telling him their next band practise was tomorrow. It had been sent to all the other members too. Lately, their band, Black Brothers, had been hitting off, and they were getting calls to perform at the Dreadfort soon, which Jon knew was where Ramsay Bolton, Theon Greyjoy's dickhead boss came from. _Why would it matter? _Jon thought as he paced around the house. _Either way we'll be earning money_.

The text came from Gendry's phone at three, although it was clearly from Arya, and it was short and sharp and to the point.

**Gendry Waters: **_Gendry found me, am staying at his old house. Don't worry too much, lots of love xx_

He couldn't help it – he shouted with relief and collapsed onto the couch. People often underestimated how close his sister and he were. They just…connected. When Jon had been younger and was shunned for being the 'Bastard of Winterfell', Arya had always been there, wanting to practise fencing or archery or play catch. He grew to love her like she truly was his own sister, even though she was his half-sister. Then again, he didn't even know if that was true. Ned Stark had never told him who his true parents were.

Jon texted up a long reply, mainly because, well…he couldn't exactly help it.

**Jon Snow: **_Arya, thank goodness you're alright. Tell Gendry thank you as well, and is everything okay? You're not injured, are you? You might want to call Catelyn, as well as Robb and Theon. I called them when we found you were still missing in the morning and they've been searching the whole day. Sansa also called, although I'm not sure why. I told her you were missing, and she was extremely worried, so please call her back too. I love you, Arya, and please stay safe._

Another text immediately beeped up, except this time it was from Tormund, the drummer in their band.

**Tormund Giantsbane: **_Oi crow, meet me at the House of the Undying pub. I need to talk to you pronto. _

Jon couldn't help but roll his eyes, but he got up either way and shoved his phone in his pocket, as well as grabbing his guitar. His familiar Ute was sitting at the front of the house, and he got in and drove to the House of the Undying, which was owned by one of the Targaryen brothers, Visyris. Visigti was an arrogant prick, but the pub had excellent acoustics and the Black Brothers often played there.

Tormund was outside the pub, leaning casually against it. People often wondered how their band was ever formed, due to the fact that Tormund was a great deal older than them, and sure, Orell was sort of the same age, but then there was Mance, the singer, and they were all older than Jon. Not that he minded, though. They all played good music together and got along nicely.

"Crow!" the drummer roared when he finally parked his car and got out.

Jon grinned at him. "Tormund, how's it going?"

"Not much, crow, not much. I just…I mean, we need to talk, mate."

"About…?"

Tormund grimaced slightly. "Ygritte."

He froze instantly, and stared at his friend. "What do you mean…?" Jon asked carefully. Orell's beautiful _young_ girlfriend, Ygritte, was…she was…he doubted he could fit anything into words.

"You bloody well know what I mean," the drummer snapped. "I've seen 'yer, and so have we all. You been flirting with Orell's girlfriend, and sure she's a lovely lady, but honestly, crow, keep 'ya hands to yourself."

"Look, Orell isn't even right for her. I'm not saying he's a bad guy, because he's not, but…"

"You'd be better for her, aye. Even Mance agrees on that one, but you could fuck things up for the band if you go for her. You know what Orell's like."

Jon sighed. "I'm sorry, okay? I'll try and…"

"Just don't fuck shit up," Tormund said harshly, before grinning. "Anyway, crow, seeing as we're here, why don't we practise a bit? You don't have anything on, do 'yer?"

"Sorry, Tormund…I don't…I mean, I brought my guitar, but still. I don't think I can. I've got a few things going on at the moment that I want to attend to."

The drummer nodded. "I know you're a good man, crow. I'll see you at practise tomorrow."

Jon watched him enter the pub, presumably to get drunk. Tormund had a rather bad drinking problem, and even though he was going to Alcohol Anonymous, it still didn't seem to be helping. His Ute was still warm from the drive to the House of the Undying, which was bliss as it had started becoming cooler in Winterfell. There had been a few days where the sky was clear and there was no snow, but now it was freezing, and snow was beginning to fall.

Gendry's old apartment was in an average suburban area of Winterfell, and Jon remembered visiting there a few times before they both moved in with each other. It had been a nice apartment, if a bit run down. He parked the car outside and hurried to the door. Inside, there was the sound of soft voices, presumably Gendry and Arya's. Jon felt his heart swell at the thought of his little sister, because he had been just…so worried about her.

The door opened before he could knock, and Gendry stood at the door, almost a little awkwardly.

"Hey," he greeted, opening the door wider.

"Hey…is Arya okay?" Jon asked, entering the house. He peeped in and saw her lying on the couch, looking rather worse for wear, but it was still her. "Arya!"

She sat up a bit clumsily, smiling slightly at him. When he reached the side of the couch he threw his arms around her, clutching her tight towards his chest.

"Sorry Jon," Arya whispered, finally gently pushing off his arms and lying back down on the couch. "I really didn't mean to worry you."

"What happened? Are you okay? Do you remember anything?" He couldn't help but fire relentless questions, and he vaguely heard Gendry laugh.

"I don't…I mean, I remember some things, but it's all really…blurry."

"What do you remember?" Jon pressed. "I'll beat the shit out of them, whoever it was."

"So will I," Gendry added, going to sit beside him.

Arya smiled gratefully. "I know…but, I don't remember _who_. I was just…looking at some street art, I think? They came up behind me, and I remembered trying to run, and he had a gun, but…" She paused suddenly, and gasped. "Oh god…Nymeria…she was there."

"_Nymeria_?" Jon said, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice. "Sis, are you _sure_?"

"Yes, I'm sure. She was there, and she just started attacking him." Her face was etched with worry. "Do you think she'll be okay?"

"Who's Nymeria?" Gendry interjected. "Some old friend or…?"

"My dog."

Their roommate looked amused at that. "I should've known."

"I thought Nymeria was dead…" Jon said slowly.

"So did I," Arya replied honestly. "I mean…she just…disappeared."

"Oh well. It doesn't really matter, does it? I've glad your safe." Jon hugged his sister tightly again, and he could feel her smiling into his shoulder. He noticed Gendry seemed to smile almost softly at the sight of them, as if he too was glad Arya was back. _Of course he's glad_, he thought, _she's his roommate_.

* * *

Sansa tried her best not to fidget as she sat rather impatiently at her table, her hands clasped tightly together. She could see Jaime Lannister ordering their coffee at the counter, and she felt even more nervous. What would Joffrey's uncle want? According to Joffrey, he hadn't exactly been on his good side the past few months, though Sansa didn't know why. _It's never good to be on Joffrey's bad side_, she thought glumly.

He suddenly arrived at their table, holding two coffee's – a light cappuccino for her and a black coffee for him – smiling slightly. Jaime sat down across from her, and yet again she felt her nerves set on edge.

"Sansa," he began, but then seemed to stop and check his watch. "Someone else is meant to be meeting us here…"

The horror must have been visable on her face, for he instantly smiled warmly at her. "Oh no, not like that. She's a friend. You've never met her before."

_That rules out Cersei Lannister_, Sansa thought with relief, but she still felt weird about this whole arrangement. When Jaime had asked her to coffee, she hadn't thought much about it, but now it seemed so serious and grim. She was about to ask why they were even there when he suddenly stood up.

"There she is!" he exclaimed, and Sansa noticed a soft smile grace his handsome features. She looked to where he was gazing, and saw a rather masculine female with short blonde hair. When the woman turned around and saw them, she smiled and approached them.

"Brienne," Jaime greeted, hugging her. She couldn't help but notice how intimate the two seemed.

"Jaime," she responded, releasing him and pulling up a chair. "You must be Sansa Stark. I'm Brienne."

Sansa smiled rather nervously, and held out her hand. "It's lovely to meet you," she said politely.

The woman sat down on the other side of Sansa, and for a moment there was an awkward silence.

"Sansa," Jaime began yet again, "I…I think you should move out."

She couldn't help it, really. It was just so…it sounded so rude. "Excuse me?" she said loudly.

"It's clear you don't want to be with Joffrey," he continued, ignoring her little outburst. "I think you'd be a lot happier if you left. It's clear that your family seems to be ignoring you…"

Sansa glared at him, trying her best to pretend to be furious without jumping out of her seat and screaming at him to take her home. "I…first of all, Joff and I are perfectly happily together. And my family is _not_ ignoring me. It's simply a small dispute," she told him, her tone clipped and polite.

"It's perfectly okay to admit that you don't like Joffrey," Brienne added softly. "Jaime and I don't care. We're here to help."  
Somehow she couldn't believe that. She had been told by Cersei Lannister the exact same thing, and when Sansa _had_ trusted her, it had turned out disastrous. "I'd appreciate the help if there was a problem, but seeing as there isn't…"

"Sansa, please." The oldest Lannister brother was beginning to sound rather exasperated. "I'm serious, here. I know that this whole thing with Joffrey is completely bullshit. Tyrion told me everything. He also mentioned that your family isn't taking you in because they're angry at you for dating Joffrey, even though it's not…real."

"It _is_ real," she protested weakly. _They're seeing through it, and I want them to, but he said…he told me…_

"You can stay with me," Brienne told her. "As…awkward as it seems, I can assure you, you would most definitely prefer my company than Joffrey Baratheon's."

Sansa didn't respond, and clenched her hands together tightly. "I told you before, I'm fine."

"Are you calling my brother a liar then, Sansa?" Jaime stared at her intently, and she knew he was trying a different tactic.

"Of course not. I'm merely saying that his…analysis is off," she replied coolly.

"It's not," the Lannister said. "Sansa, please. You don't need to do this to yourself."

_But I do_, she thought numbly, _because if I don't he said he'd hurt my family, he promised. _

"Please, Sansa," Brienne begged, her blue eyes warm.

"I…" she began, but stopped. "What if Joffrey finds out?"

"Well, of course our dear friend Joff will find out. However, Brienne here works at the police force, and why would my nephew suspect me? I'm the beloved uncle. If he makes unwanted threats towards you or your family, I'll have Brienne onto him straight away."

Sansa was shocked for a moment, because she didn't understand. Sure, Jaime Lannister had never been _cruel_ to her, but to offer something like this was weird. She didn't know if it was some nasty joke Joffrey had set up, yet Brienne seemed like a genuinely kind person, so why would she team up with Jaime? And what was with those two anyway? In a way, Sansa thought they looked like a couple.

"I'll…but Margaery? She's my friend," she told them quietly. "I don't want to leave her with Joff…I mean, Joffrey."

Brienne and Jaime exchanged amused glances. "I don't think you need to worry about the Tyrell girl," the Lannister said harshly.

Sansa sighed heavily, and looked down at her hands. _I should say yes,_ she thought. _If I say yes, Joffrey will be gone, I can try and get things right with my family_.

"Okay," she finally said after a lengthy silence. "I'll…move in with Brienne."

They both smiled at her almost proudly, and Sansa bit her lip. She was still worried that Jaime was going to suddenly tell her that this was all a joke, and that like _hell_ anyone would ever save her from Joffrey. _I don't need saving,_ she thought weakly.

The rest of the time in the café was spent on idle chatter and Brienne telling Sansa that she had made a good choice, and that even though it would be a little weird at first to move in with a complete stranger, it would be for the best. She took in all their words politely, thanking them in the right places, even though inside she wanted to dance around with happiness.

"How am I going to get my stuff?" she asked them as they left the café.

"We'll all go in," Jaime told her. "It's not like Joffrey can do much when you're with a grown man and a police officer."

"Joffrey doesn't know Brienne's an officer."

Brienne smiled slightly. "He will soon enough," she said.

The older woman took her own car to the Lannister's incredibly large house, while Jaime drove Sansa there. When they arrived outside the house, she could feel all the nerves inside her whirling around, and she felt so tense and stressed that she couldn't say anything as they made their way to the front door. It was Brienne who knocked on the door, even though they could of very well just walked in, with Jaime there.

Surprisingly enough, it was Tyrion who opened the door, and he seemed to stare right through her.

"Sansa, Jaime, Brienne," he greeted accordingly, before opening the door for them.

"Tyrion," Jaime said, entering, while Brienne simply nodded and Sansa smiled slightly.

"I'll warn you, brother, our beloved nephew isn't the greatest of moods," Tyrion told them as they walked to the dining room.

"That's fine," the older Lannister replied coolly. "Sansa, go up and get your stuff when we reach the lounge."

Joffrey was lying on the couch, flicking idly through a book that he didn't look he was really enjoyed. As usual, Sandor was behind him, standing menacingly. They both looked up in surprise.

"What a surprise," Joffrey said dryly, before his eyes moved to Brienne. "Is this the beast you've taken a liking to, uncle? I suppose it doesn't really matter, unless she's good in bed."

Brienne flushed, but ignored the taunt. "Sansa is moving out," she told him boldly.

The Baratheon stood at once, and Sansa felt Jaime nudge her to get moving. She started to walk away.

"Sansa!" Joffrey barked. "Get back here."

She turned around slowly, ignoring Brienne's protests.

"You want to stay with me, _don't you_? We were going to get married, you and I, and have beautiful children."

The words seemed to hang in the air, and Sansa felt like she couldn't breathe. Tyrion seemed to be looking at her almost sympathetically.

"I…" she murmured, then stopped. "I have other things to sort out before we can get married, Joff. That's why I need to move out. Once I'm done, though, we can definitely get married. And we will have children…lovely children…" Her voice trailed off weakly.

"You can sort out your fucking business here!"

"No, Joff, I really can't. I need to move out, with Brienne…"

"And why is that?" Joffrey asked, his eyes gleaming maliciously.

Sansa stared at him, unable to come up with a proper excuse. _I probably look like a gaping fish,_ she thought.

"She's moving in with me," Brienne began loudly, "because she's trying to join the police force."

Joffrey stared at Brienne in shock, and Sansa knew that this was a subtle way of telling him that there was a police officer in the room, and he couldn't do anything.

"That's right," Jaime said, backing her up. "Sansa wants to be a police officer, and whom better than to guide her through the ropes than one of the police's best, Brienne?"

The Baratheon looked almost nervous. "Well…I suppose that will do, then. Once you are finished, though, you _will_ return. Then we'll get married, you and I."

"Of course," Sansa said politely. "I'm going to pack my things now." She left quickly, feeling the tense silence that was about to take place.

When she reached the top of the stairs, Margaery was standing there to her surprise.

"I heard everything," her friend told her, and for a moment the Tyrell woman seemed to be glaring at her. "Do you really want to become a police officer? Don't you need a degree or something like that?"

"I want to help enforce the law," Sansa replied easily. "Brienne will help me, no matter what."

"When did you even meet this Brienne? It couldn't have been long ago. We've been here for barely a fortnight."

"We might awhile ago, when I went with Jaime to look at career options. I told him what I wanted to do, and then he introduced me to Brienne." The lie slipped out of her lips so easily, she almost believed it herself.

Margaery looked dubious, though. "Are you and Joffrey still together, though?"

"I suppose so…"

Her friend seemed to hesitate for a moment, before smiling widely and hugging her tightly. "I'll miss you then," Margaery whispered. "I'm sorry about all this."

"It's fine," Sansa told her. "Everything seems to have worked out fine."

The Tyrell woman released her and flashed another smile. "Yes," she finally said, her eyes shining. "It has worked out fine."

* * *

Gendry sat in Beric's lounge room just like the week before, and watched them converse. It seemed Arya was still intent on finding out whatever she wanted, even after her little attack. He didn't know why, as it was obviously the reason why she had been attacked so viciously. She was lucky to be alive, and Gendry didn't know why, but he was just so…relieved that Arya was alive and safe, even though a few fingers in her hand were broken.

Even though he and Jon were panicking big time about it, with Jon refusing to allow Arya to go anywhere without a companion, she seemed to have moved on already, not bothering to dwell on it.

"If they really wanted to kill me, they would have shot me before I'd turned around and saw them," Arya had said, and even though it was true in a way, they both just didn't want such a thing to happen.

Gendry didn't know why he was caring so much. Why should he? Sure, she was his roommate, but he didn't need to care for her _this_ much. When he had found her lying there, on the concrete, he remembered the panic that flicked through him. He felt even worse after Arya had told them that she had heard footsteps before blacking out, even though Gendry had found her long after the original attack. Somehow, he didn't want to know who the footsteps had belonged to.

Beric and Arya appeared to be having an argument of some kind, and he was hoping that it was because she had told the investigator about her little…mishap. Maybe Beric would refuse to look into things any further because she had gotten hurt? Gendry doubted it somewhat, for the investigator just wasn't that type of person. It wasn't that he was completely obsessed with the money he got from his clients, it was more the fact that Beric never stopped a case half way, no matter what.

"Gendry." He turned around to see Arya standing there, and blinked slightly. Gendry hadn't even noticed that they had finished.

"How are you going, Gendry?" Beric asked, exiting his small office as well. He noticed that unlike before, Arya wasn't carrying a folder or anything like that.

"Fine," he replied tightly, even though really, he wasn't. It wasn't like he was really upset or something bad had happened, it was just the usual plus Arya. He had been thinking about her a lot lately, and not in the 'annoying roommate' type way. It wasn't like he was all creepy around her or anything. There was just some subtle things he sometimes noticed about her, that seemed really…not cute, but more…nice to him. If nice was the right adjective. And not to mention the fact that university was still a pain in the ass and he didn't want to do it.

"That's good." There was an awkward silence for a moment, before Gendry quickly coughed and got up from the couch.

"Are you ready to go, Arya?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure." She turned to Beric. "I'll see you next week, then."

"Of course. Take care, Arya." The investigator went back into his office, and Arya and Gendry made their way out of the house.

"How did it go?" he questioned, trying to sound as polite and…uninterested as possible.

She stared at him suspiciously. "Fine…"

"Everything…okay?"

Arya seemed to open her mouth as if to say something, but she quickly snapped it shut. "Not really," she said, and it was clear she was lying.

"Well…okay then."

For possibly the first time since Gendry had met Arya, there was an awkward silence as they drove home, and he didn't know why. Even when they sat in silence watching T.V or something simple like that, it was never awkward. In his eyes, they had always been at a simple ease with each other and he knew something must have changed that, but he didn't dare ask. He would only make things more awkward for her, and he didn't know why…but he liked it when Arya talked to him and smiled at him.

When they arrived back at the house, it was empty because Jon was out at band practise. Lately, Gendry had noticed that his roommate had seemed more eager to go to band practise, and he just knew it was because of a girl. Arya hurried up to her room, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. Clearly, she was pissed at _something_, but…that was what Jon was there for, not him.

Gendry busied himself with cooking dinner for that night, and smiled. He liked cooking, and his thoughts kept drifting back to Selmy's idea of cooking…but it was only a hobby, really, nothing more. Many things of his were hobbies, and he thought he would've enjoyed engineering, as he did enjoy fixing things in his teenage years, but now…definitely not as a career.

Arya came down once to get something out of the cupboard, but she seemed to stop for a minute, and turned to him.

"Gendry…" she began, and he stopped instantly.

_Oh god, _he thought, because he had seen that look on his mother before and it hadn't been good.

"Gendry, Beric gave me a file the first time I visited him…and well, there was something a little…surprising in it," she told him, and he blinked.

"Yeah…?" he prompted.

"So basically there was a list of suspects, witnesses, and obviously, the victim…"

"I take it this is about your dad..."

Arya was glaring at him now, he noticed. "Yeah, it was. And you know what was so fucking shocking? _Your_ name was on the suspects list. It said that my dad had visited you just days before his death. Is this something you just _happened _to forget to tell us? As in Jon and I?"

Gendry stared at her in shock, and opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

"_No,_ shut up. I can't believe you. You've spent all this time acting so normal and happy when really you could be some psychopathic murderer who is wanting to kill all the Stark's and…_I can't believe you_."

"Is that what you think?" he asked softly. "That I'm some murderer?"

"_No_!" she screamed, and suddenly Arya was crying, and when Gendry reached over to comfort her she glared at him. "Don't touch me. Instead, try and fucking explain."

"Look, Arya…I'm sorry, okay? I didn't tell you both because I knew that if I did, well…you'd overreact. Like now."

"Don't you think I would've overreact _less_ if you'd told me earlier?"

"No," he admitted. "You would've still cracked. And don't say you wouldn't of. I know you, Arya." Even though he really didn't, because after all, it hadn't even been six months. "Arya…your father did visit me before his death, but I had _no_ idea who he was. Even when I asked to move in with Jon, I still didn't know. It wasn't until my mum called and said that she wanted to talk that I found out. She then told me about my father, and then I realised that…that was why your dad visited. He visited several people, and I'm pretty sure all of them were…" Gendry stopped. "Arya, I can't say anymore."

Arya's hand collided with his cheek, and it burned so much that he stumbled back and clutched his cheek.

"You don't think I have the right to know? _Is that it_?" she shouted, raising her hand to slap him again but he quickly grabbed it. Arya at once tried to struggle against it, and raised her left hand but he grabbed that too.

"_Please_, Arya. I just…"

"I trust you," she whispered suddenly. "No…I trust_ed_ you."

"Arya, there's a reason," he began, but she wrenched out of his grip and took a few steps backward.

"Don't talk to me. Or Jon, for that matter. In fact, get out. My father was an extremely important man of Winterfell, and that means that well, _so am I_. So get out, or I'll make sure you get out of my home. Get out of this house. I don't ever want to see you again." Her voice was cold and distant, and even though there were tears in her eyes they seemed almost…blank.

"I'm sorry," he said instantly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I _promise_ you, Arya, one day I'll tell you." _Don't you think you're overreacting? _He wanted to scream that at her, but he didn't, because…why didn't he? Gendry didn't even know.

Arya hesitated for a moment, and bit her lip. "Sometimes sorry just doesn't cut it. My father meant everything to me. I loved him more than Catelyn, more than all of them, even Jon. He was always there for me, and I know he wasn't just killed like that. I want _revenge_. I know it's the Lannisters and Baratheons, yet clearly you can't see it. I thought you'd tell me. I thought you'd tell me why you didn't tell us that our dad visited you, and then we'd all go out and celebrate and get fucking smashed and forget about it, but I suppose not. You're just too stubborn, aren't you? Your problems aren't the most important things in the world."

"Neither are yours." When he realised what he had said, he wanted to take it back instantly. Her face changed instantly, and the rather emotionless void changed to a pool of hurt and anger. "Shit…Arya," he began, but she turned around and ran out the door.

"_Don't come back_!" she screamed behind her.

Gendry stared at the door numbly. _I hate her, I hate her, I hate her_, he thought, but he didn't. She was more than a roommate, more than a friend for whatever reason. He thought of her as someone he trusted and respected and thought of as a sibling…

_Is that really what you think_? a slimy voice in his head whispered, but he ignored it and fell to the floor.

Gendry sat there, on the kitchen floor as the time ticked away, listening to the clock tick and smelling the smoke as the food he was cooking slowly burned away. It had been Arya's favourite, chicken kebab's and rice, yet now…

Nothing really mattered.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope that last scene was realistic…I was a bit worried about writing this. The start felt really slow and yet another dream! I seem to like writing them…

Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved or followed! I love reviews, they keep me inspired, and I know everyone says that with that subtle hint that says 'REVIEW ME', but it really does inspire.

Sorry about this chapter being a bit…thingy, but next chapter…oh god, I'm really excited to write it. There's LOTS of Gendrya…

Thanks for reading!  
-Zamire


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Hey guys! So here's the sixth chapter, and it's a bit longer than the last. Sorry for a bit of a late update, I know I said I had holidays and all that, but things still had to be done and you know how homework and studying is. Hopefully the next chapter should be up on Sunday.

Hope you all enjoy, and sorry for any mistakes!

* * *

**-The Key to Happiness-**

**-Chapter 6-**

When Jon arrived home, the house was oddly quiet and there was a vague smell of smoke. The door was unlocked, though, and in the kitchen there was a frypan on the bench, with some burnt substance in it. It was odd, really, because ever since he had started living with Gendry there had never been a moment of peace or silence. And when Arya moved in, it was even louder. Yet now, the house was silent and still, which was odd because the door had been unlocked.

"Hello?" Jon called, going up the stairs to see if anyone was there. The rooms were all empty, and he rolled his eyes. Surely Arya and Gendry hadn't had another fight. They always seemed to be arguing, but it never was serious. It was always about stupid things, and afterwards they'd laugh about it together. Sometimes, Jon would come home to find them huddled together on the couch under blankets, eating popcorn and watching some sitcom.

"Arya? Gendry?"

There was more silence, and he sighed loudly and pulled out his phone. It said that there were no new messages or missed calls. He dialled Gendry's number, however it went straight to his answering machine. The same thing happened when he called Arya's, which was annoying. For all he knew, they could be out doing…no, that was stupid. They weren't _together_ or anything like that.

The frypan was still lying on the bench, and it looked like there had been some type of meat in it. Gendry had probably been cooking dinner. _Now there's nothing to eat_, Jon thought idly, as he rummaged through the pantry. In the end he chose some canned spaghetti, and cooked it up. Ygritte could cook, he realised suddenly. One time she had brought them all lunch, and it had been delicious.

Ygritte was on his mind half the time, and it annoyed him. She was Orell's girlfriend, not his, and they were good friends, sure, but…part of him desperately wanted her to go to the Baratheon Dance with him. He had heard about it when he was walking around after his chat with Tormund, and it was a public event. Part of him wanted to call Orell and see if he was going, and then if he wasn't…Jon could ask Ygritte himself. It would be just as friends, of course, but it could still work and happen.

His phone rang suddenly, and to his surprise it was Ygritte. _What would she want? She only calls when she's asking us all over for a beer or something…_ Jon quickly answered.

"Hello?"

"Jon Snow!" The amount of times Ygritte only called him 'Jon' was very few. "I was just wondering somethin'…"

"Yeah…?" he asked slowly.

"Well, you know about the dance, right? Well, Orell ain't going, saying he won't go to some pansy dance with me. Who cares, I mean? It's an excuse to get drunk and party, so I'm all for it. I definitely wouldn't wanna go with Tormund, because I mean, how old is he? And Mance? Don't get me started. But you, Jon Snow, you…why don't we go?"

"Won't Orell get…jealous?"

"You know nothing." He could picture Ygritte rolling her eyes. "Of course he won't! We'll just be going as friends, so it won't matter. Now, you in or not?"

Jon knew that he should say no, but Orell wasn't even going. Tormund probably wouldn't, either, and Mance didn't give a shit about whether they were going out or not. "Okay…" he said, unsure. "Yeah, sure. That sounds great."

"I know right! What time are you picking me up?"

"Seven? Does that sound good?"

"Course it does, Jon Snow. I'll see ya tomorrow night, then. Don't ya worry about Orell, now, I'll deal with him," Ygritte told him. "See ya."

"Bye," he said, and he heard the line go dead.

The house was silence yet again, and Jon tried calling Gendry again. To his surprise, his roommate actually picked up this time.

"Jon?" he asked. "Hey."

"Hey Gendry. No ones here, and the door was unlocked…I was just wondering if something happened?" Jon told him.

"Just a small fight with Arya." By the sound of his voice, it didn't sound like a small fight. "Sorry, I'll come home now so I can cook some dinner. Is Arya there?"

"No, she isn't. And don't worry, I found some tinned spaghetti in the fridge. Oh, and by the way, I was wondering if you knew about the Baratheon Dance yet. It's tomorrow night. You should come. I'm going with a friend, so maybe you could find someone and come along with me?"

There was silence on the other end. "Yeah, sure. I'll go."

"Thanks Gendry. Look, Arya really does consider you a good friend. She'll calm down soon enough. Come home now, and I'll bet you she'll be home by the time you get here."

"Sure. I'll see you later."

The line went dead, and Jon sighed. Gendry had sounded so withdrawn and sad, so it must have been a big fight. He tried calling Arya again, yet no one picked up. Jon waited impatiently on the couch instead, fidgeting. When he heard the door open, he turned around, expecting to see Gendry, but Arya stood there, looking cold and sad.

"Arya," Jon said instantly, getting up. "Arya, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said shortly. "Is there any food?" She didn't bother waiting for him to reply. "No? Okay, that's fine. I'll go to bed." Arya began to make her way upstairs.

"I know you had a fight with Gendry!" he called after her. "I'm sure he didn't mean whatever he said!"

She seemed to ignore him, and later he heard some banging, and he presumed she was throwing stuff around, whether it be in her room or Gendry's. Jon knew she wanted to be left alone. There were times when it was okay to comfort her, and other times when you just left her alone. Gendry would most likely apologise later on, and she would undoubtedly forgive. Everything would be back to normal then.

It was awhile later when Gendry finally came home, shivering from the cold.

"Hey Gendry. Arya come home awhile ago," he told his roommate, and he nodded.

"Sure. Do you want me to cook some dinner or are you all good? I've already eaten. Has Arya eaten?" Gendry was rambling slightly.

"I'm not sure. She'll be fine, though. Just leave her be, and apologise tomorrow. She'll cool down soon."

"Thanks, Jon. Good night."

"Good night."

When he saw that Gendry had gone upstairs, he couldn't help but roll his eyes. In a way, Arya was the glue in their house. It wasn't like he didn't get along with Gendry, but when Arya wasn't there or was angry with one of them, the other got withdrawn and everything just sort of…collapsed. _That's okay, though. You love her_, he thought, and Jon truly did. His sister was amazing, and he loved her like she truly was his own sister.

* * *

Gendry didn't know why he was here, or why he was even back at the house he called home about twelve hours ago. More importantly, standing outside Arya's door when he had heard from Jon that she had thrown his stuff around in his room was _not_ exactly the world's greatest idea. Yet still, he wanted to apologise face to face, not just by some mundane text with a smiley face placed at the end.

Arya was clearly trying to ignore his presence outside her room, yet he knew that she knew that he was outside. She was most likely drawing, as he could hear her scribbling against paper. He wanted to call out, because not only did he want to apologise but also ask a favour, although he highly doubted she would accept.

_That's okay, though, _Gendry thought. _As long as she forgives me, it's okay_.

He waited several more minutes, before finally sighing impatiently and coughing loudly, to catch her attention. She clearly stopped her scribbling, and for a moment there was just silence.

"Arya?" he asked, about to push open the door.

"I thought I told you to get out of the house and never return." Her voice was muffled and croaky.

"I know, but I just wanted to apologise."

"A bit late for that."

There was more silence, and Gendry couldn't help but roll his eyes. He was as stubborn as her, possibly more, surely she knew that? Like he would stop pestering her until she accepted his apology. Jon had told him that she had been crying when she returned home as well, which clearly showed she was upset. Gendry was hoping that she was upset about sending him away, not that he didn't tell her.

"Arya, _please_," he begged, but she didn't respond. He opened the door anyway, and saw her lying sprawled out on the floor, a piece of paper on the ground, pen in her hand. The picture looked like two people, except one was lying on the ground and the other was standing on top of him, one foot on his chest, and yes, the person on the ground was definitely male and held an uncanny resemblance to him.

"Ever heard of knocking? Or being vaguely polite and not coming until the person says so?" Arya snapped, getting up. She picked up the picture and pushed it towards him. "This is us. This is our relationship. This is how it's going to stay because you're a fucking asshole."

"Yes, I know, we've already established that," he replied dryly. "I'm here to apologise. I wanted to say that…I will tell you, it's just hard to say when I haven't even accepted the truth myself."

"And what _is_ the truth? That you killed my father? That you were part of his murder?"

"_No_!" Gendry yelled furiously. "The truth…the truth is simply your father was looking for people _like_ me, and I didn't learn that until later."

"People like you?" Arya said humourlessly. "You mean stubborn assholes who are stupid?"

"No, I mean bastards from a certain man."

She was silent, and he knew he had shocked her. _Good_, Gendry thought. _Let her think on that one_.

"Okay," she said eventually, slowly. "So you're a bastard. I already knew that. Why would my father be looking for bastards? And what did he even say to you?"

"He asked questions. About my mother…and father. I told him I didn't know he was, and that seemed good enough for him," he told her.

"This was in King's Landing, right?"

"Yeah, when your family came over and your father was offered that position in Baratheon Corp."

Arya nodded. "Okay…" She looked unsure, and kept biting her lip. "I don't forgive you," she said suddenly. "But you can stay."

Gendry grinned at her, because he knew she had. He didn't know why, though, because…well, she had been remotely calm about the whole thing.

"But you better tell me one day, you stupid bull, or I'll…" She seemed to think for a moment. "Well, I'll do _something_."

"Of course," he agreed.

Arya turned back to her work, and when she saw that he had made no move to leave, she stopped again. "Look, I already said you could stay. What do you want?"

"I need a favour," Gendry said honestly. "A really big one."

"You bullshit me and hurt my feelings, plead for forgiveness, I let you stay, and yet you still want a favour?" she demanded.

"You would never have kicked me out," he said quietly, and she glared at him.

_It's true_, he thought, and he knew it.

"I…you know about the dance coming up…that Baratheon Corp.'s holding. Well, Jon's forcing me to come, and I know he's forcing you to come…"

Arya got it pretty quickly. "No," she said instantly, and went back to drawing.

"We might find some things about. About your father and Sansa and everything," he protested.

"No."

"We…Arya, it's not a symbol of anything. It's just as friends, and obviously it isn't going to be anything romantic. We don't even have to dance, if you don't want to. Just…just so Jon stops pestering me." It was much more than that, but Gendry didn't want to tell Arya that. There was no way he could have asked another girl when she was there, right down the hall, not having anyone else to go with.

"Gendry, I don't even want to go. Why should I?" she snorted.

"Don't you want to know who attacked you? I'd bet all my money on it that it was someone sent by Joffrey Baratheon, and he's going to be there. Sansa is as well, and you might be able to ask her about her and Joffrey…"

"Will you tell me about why my father visited if I go with you?" Arya asked immediately, sitting up. The idea clearly appealed to her.

_Do I really have to_? "You do realise that when I tell you it's going to sound really lame…it's not even that much to worry about," Gendry replied.

"Then tell me now, if it's not that much to worry about."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, yes, I'll tell you if you go with me, okay? I promise."

She smiled suddenly, and he felt his lips twitching upwards as well. "Okay then," Arya said. "I'll go with you."

* * *

The house was truly beautiful, and Sansa loved her room. It was small, but nicely furnished, and there was a large window as well. Brienne was extremely kind as well, and her cooking was delicious. They got on well, and even though she was a bit nervous about the whole police thing, Brienne was perfectly calm about it. It was often discussed at breakfast, as Sansa had been staying at the house for nearly three days. Joffrey seemed to accept the fact about the police lie, however she didn't know if that was exactly true. Sometimes he didn't look like he minded, but he did.

Sansa sat with Brienne at the dining table, watching as she went through all the paperwork.

"It's tedious," Brienne said. "All this signing…my hand gets so sore sometimes."

She nodded. "I don't mind paperwork. It's repetitive."

"Well maybe you can be on the office duty, instead of out in the field."

The idea of arresting drunk teenagers who were driving with too many people and speeding along the freeway didn't exactly appeal to Sansa, so the office sounded like absolute bliss. "The office sound great," she agreed.

Brienne smiled slightly. The broad woman rarely smiled, and when she did it was small. "I hated it. I like being out in the field. That's where I met Jaime."

_It always comes back to Jaime_, Sansa thought, thoroughly amused. It was clear they both had…feelings, for each other, yet when she had asked Brienne about their relationship, the woman had simply said that they were 'just friends'. She didn't believe that at all, for Jaime had seemed very happy at the café, and when he had stopped over the other day, the two had been talking avidly, clearly at ease with each other.

"How did you meet Jaime?" she asked politely.

"He was…you know Jaime. He's reckless, and an arrogant…person." Brienne paused for a moment. "He was drunk, and was picking on some people in an alleyway. I do believe it was your half-brother, actually."

"Jon?" Sansa asked in surprise. "This couldn't have been that long ago, then."

"About two years or so. I, of course, stopped him, and he kept calling me wench as I drove him back to the station. Jaime still does call me that sometimes, even now. It's a jest, though, nothing more. I kept him there at the station until he got sober, though he refused to drink any of the water and wouldn't shut to. Often, he mentioned his father and the trouble I'd get into. Half the time it sounded like he didn't believe what he was saying, though."

"He must have hated you then."

"He did. I didn't see him again for two weeks, and never thought twice about him. And then, Jaime showed up the station one night, and he just asked if we could talk, and…the things he said." Brienne's face hardened. "I didn't believe it at first, for why would this man come to me? He told me that I had looked like a trustworthy person when he got arrested, and made me promise not to tell anyone. Yet again, I didn't see him for about a month or so, however I got a phone call awhile later from him. He got my number off a friend of mine, and so…we just began to meet up regularly."

"It sounds lovely," Sansa said, smiling, and it did. It sounded like the type of relationship she had always wanted.

Brienne shrugged. "He's still quite a bit arrogant, however he truly is nice."

"He was always kind to me."

She smiled. "I'm glad he was."

They ate in silence for awhile, which was nice. When Sansa had lived with her family, eating had always been a loud affair, yet when their father died, it became an almost forced conversation. With Margaery and Loras, it was idle chatter, and with Joffrey…it was meaningless words.

"Do you think…Joffrey believed us?" Sansa asked.

"No, I don't," the older woman replied honestly. "However, I doubt he'll do anything. He knows I'm a cop, and I will most definitely be going to the Baratheon Dance. It's a public event, after all, however I'll make sure to show up in my uniform."

"I don't want to go at all. Who would I go with, anyway?"

"You don't have to go with anyone. If you'd like, Jaime can accompany you…however I doubt he'd be much use. What about friends?"

_There's none_, she thought miserably. Unless…Theon, or Robb…

"I could ask my brother, or his friend, however I think they aren't exactly kissing a photo of me at the moment…they think I'm dating Joffrey," she said.

"Well, then we'll show up on their doorstep and prove them wrong," Brienne said determinedly. "Where do these boys live? We'll go straight after breakfast."

"I don't need to go with anyone, Brienne. It's fine, really."

"We'll go. It's no trouble at all, Sansa."

She sighed. It wasn't like she had to go with someone, it just felt…wrong, to go without someone by her side. And she wanted someone there, if Joffrey came and started talking to her. Then again, Joffrey might ask her if he would like to go with her. Although, according to Jaime, the Baratheon had asked Margaery, which shocked Sansa. She had never expected Margaery to go with him, especially after all the stories she had told her friend.

After breakfast, Sansa got in Brienne's police car, and gave her directions to Robb and Theon's house. It was a shabby house, small with only one floor and an attic, which was where Theon did all his weird music stuff. Grey Wind was tied outside, and barked happily when he saw the car pull up. When Sansa got out, Grey Wind began to pull against the rope, his tail wagging happily.

"Hello there," Sansa said, and let Grey Wind lick her hand.

"Grey Wind! Grey Wind, shut _up_ you damn beast!" It was Theon, she could tell, shouting from inside. The front door opened, and the younger Greyjoy stood there, wearing some scruffy old jeans and a band t-shirt. His face was unshaven, and he was glaring, until he saw her.

"Hey…Theon," she said uneasily, and Brienne came out of the car. Theon seemed to stare in shock at both of them.

"Oh, h-hey, Sansa…" he greeted, and then turned to Brienne. "Hey…"

"Brienne," the older woman said tightly.

"Brienne. What do you want?"

It sounded rude, and Sansa knew it, and she saw Brienne frown. She ignored it, though, because she wanted to be polite and tell them the truth, not start some stupid fight.

"Look, I know what you've heard," Sansa said. "It's wrong, though. Yes, I was holding hands with him…kissing him…" She shuddered. "He said…he said that he'd hurt you all if I did." The words came out, and they sounded so emotionless, so unimformative, that she didn't believe it herself.

Theon stared at her. "Look, I really don't give a shit about whether or not you're dating that prat. Robb does, and so does Arya, Jon doesn't care, but you shouldn't be saying all this shit to me."

"I'm sorry."

"There's no reason to be. You can date who you bloody well like, I don't care."

She smiled at him, because she knew he was lying. He _had_ cared, however she wasn't going to mention that. "Thank you, Theon," she said softly.

He smiled crookedly at her. "Sure, sure. Is there anything else you want? Robb isn't here. He's out with Jeyne."

"Oh…well, there is, but I mean, you don't have to…"

Theon stared at her, clearly waiting for her to go on.

"I mean, I was wondering if you'd go to the dance with me…the Baratheon Dance…just as friends, obviously," Sansa blurted out quickly.

He shrugged, as if it didn't really bother him. "Sure, why not? I can pick you up, if you want."

Sansa felt herself smiling, and beside her, Brienne seemed to be less tense.

"Thanks, Theon. It means a lot," she told him honestly.

"Of course. Now, sorry…don't mean to cut our little gathering short, but I have a phonecall with my boss soon. And you know what my boss is like."

"Yeah. Thanks again, Theon, and I'll see you later."

She and Brienne turned to leave and walk back to the car.

"I'll pick you up at seven!" Theon shouted from behind them, and Sansa waved her thanks.

They drove back to Brienne's in silence, with only quiet music playing in the background. The older woman had seemed to scream disapproval at the start when they were talking to Theon. That was how it usually was with him, and Sansa could remember when she dated him and how…weird he was, sometimes. Yet he truly was nice, and she could understand why Robb trusted him with his life.

"Well, there you have it. You have a date," Brienne said finally.

"I wish Robb was there, though. I'm not sure what he'll think when he sees Theon and I together," Sansa replied.

"I'm sure he'll tell your brother. Even if he doesn't, your brother should talk to you there when he sees you with Theon. Your sister as well."

Sansa smiled at the thought of seeing Arya again. She missed her sister, and though they had never been close, after Ned had died they both had developed some kind of respect for each other, and she had grown to love Arya and care about her, and vice versa. It was nice having a sister, someone who understood some girly things. Catelyn had been a lovely mum, always there with advice, but she was a mother, and sometimes it was just hard to talk about things like that. Sansa remembered after Ned had died, and she had blurted everything out to Arya. Her sister had simply sat there, listening, and after all had told her some things too.

"I love him," Sansa remembered telling her sister. "I love Joff, I truly do. He's amazing, he makes me happy, and I feel like he's this little bit of hope that's there ever since dad died. I know he's a Baratheon and Cersei's daughter, but Cersei's actually lovely to me, they all are. Jaime, Tyrion, the lot of them. I don't know why, Arya, but it makes me happy. They all do, but most importantly Joffrey. I _love_ Joff." She had sounded like some love sick puppy, but Arya had never said that.

"He'll hurt you," her sister had said, her voice sounding devoid of emotion. "He will."

"I know…or maybe I don't. But he's the only thing I've ever wanted. I feel like…when I just met him, I felt like we had met before, in some other faraway world. I felt this connection, I love him. Haven't you ever loved anyone before, Arya?"

Arya seemed to think for a bit. "I love dad. I love Nymeria. I love Jon. And then I love all of you, but there are different types of love. I don't love Nymeria the way I love Jon, and I don't love Jon the way I love dad. I don't love you the way I would love Robb, or Bran."

"I didn't think you loved me at all," Sansa admitted, smiling a bit.

Her sister didn't smile, though. "You're my sister," she had simply said. "Sisters stick together."

And even though Sansa had gone to Highgarden and left Arya at Riverrun, her sister had still responded to her calls and texts and emails, even when Margaery added some corny message at the end. She missed Arya, so much, and Sansa wanted nothing more than to prove that she didn't love Joffrey, that it had been all some stupid mistake.

* * *

"It's too tight!" Arya complained, as Roslin Frey, Edmure's latest girlfriend, tightened the lace on the back of the dress. "Stop, goddamit!"

Roslin rolled her eyes. She didn't seem to be like her uncle's other girlfriends, and had some common sense about her. When Arya had gone to Edmure – which had been an extremely awkward experience – asking for help from his girlfriend for a dress, she expected to see some air head fashionista who had tight dresses. Instead, Roslin's dresses were different and nice, as well as flowy and pretty normal.

"Sheesh, Alex, it's not _that_ tight," Roslin told her.

"It's Arya, not Alex. I remembered your name, why can't you remember mine?"

"We only met today." Her uncle's girlfriend paused to rummage through her closet once more, before pulling out another dress. "How about this one?" It was a plain red strapless dress, with a black fabric belt on it.

"Yeah, sure, looks fine," she snapped. "I really don't care."

"_Clearly_ you do. You said that you were going with this guy, and you're what, just friends? If you guys are just friends then why do you care so much?"

Arya didn't answer her, because truly she didn't know. She just wanted to look good, because it would be rude if she didn't, right? It was normal for a nearly fully grown woman to want to look nice.

"Take off that dress and put on this. I'll make the adjustments later," Roslin told her.

She changed into the red dress, and got some plain white wedges to go with it, yet it still felt…not as nice. Arya needed_ Sansa_, who always had the right dress for the right occasion. Roslin's clothes were nice, however they just didn't suit her. Usually she'd go with her sister and they'd spend the day shopping. There was a small stage when Arya had turned fourteen when she had actually _liked_ clothes, and Sansa and her used to go on massive shopping sprees, and then get iced chocolates and brownies and talk.

"This one isn't right either!" she called out.

"All of them haven't been right," Roslin said. "Is there something you're looking for in particularly? Maybe someone else could help you, because they might have the type of clothes you're looking for?"

_Yeah_, Arya thought, _Sansa_.

"No, not really," she lied. "Isn't there…something a bit more different?"

Her uncle's girlfriend started laughing. "Geez, you must really like this 'friend'!"

"It's not like that!"

"Well, not really, to be honest. I'm sorry, Arianna, maybe you have to go to someone else?"

"It's Arya," she corrected. "And fine then. I will." When Roslin left the small makeshift changing room, she got out of the red dress and threw on her regular jeans and tee. Edmure and Roslin were both in the lounge when she came downstairs, talking happily amongst themselves.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help…Alex – I mean, Arya," the older woman told her.

"It's fine. Thanks for the help, Roslin. Thanks as well, Edmure," Arya said politely, turning to leave.

"I'll tell Catelyn that you came to visit!" Edmure called out behind her, and she rolled her eyes. Of course he'd do that, just to prove to her mother that she was doing 'fine'. Everything was okay now, though, with Gendry. She knew that he knew that she forgave him. It had just happened, really. He sounded so sincere, and honest, and it made sense. She hadn't told him some things, so why should he have to tell her everything?

And going to the Baratheon Dance with him…at first, the idea had seemed appalling, because what would people think? People like Sansa, Robb, Hot Pie if he was going, Tyrion…Gendry _was_ quite a fair bit older, but that was okay. It wasn't like they were dating, and even if they were, Arya didn't believe age should get in the way of love. Her family wasn't quite like that, but she had never really cared what they had thought.

_Why am I thinking about this? It's not like I'm dating Gendry_, she thought, confused.

Her phone was in her bag, and she was thankful that she hadn't deleted Sansa's number. It was still in her favourites, and Arya sighed. What would she even say to her sister? Would Sansa make up some lie? Gendry swore that he had seen them together, and they had been fairly intimate. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more Arya didn't believe it. Her sister had quite firmly said that she didn't love Joff anymore, when Arya had been in the hospital. Why would she have lied?

The phone only rang two times before it was picked up.

"Arya?" Her sister sounded breathless and shocked.

She gulped audibly. "Hey Sansa…"

"Arya, please, I need to talk to you! Can we meet up somewhere?"

"Well, I was hoping for that as well…are you still living with the Baratheons? I was wondering if I could come over…" Arya trailed off. Even if Sansa _was_ still living with the Baratheons, she'd go there anyway. On the way, she'd make sure to give Joffrey a yelling at, because that's what he deserved.

"No, I'm living with a friend of Jaime's…she's very nice, Arya, however she's out at the moment. I can give you the address if you want?" Sansa said in a rush.

"Yeah, sure, why not? Just give me the address, and I'll catch a bus."

Her sister gave her the details, as well as what bus she recommended to catch, and soon Arya was on her way. The bus wasn't crowded, and the journey was short. Fortunately the walk from the bus stop to Brienne – whoever that was – house, was short. Sansa was waiting outside the house, looking as beautiful as ever, dressed in a nice pair of jeans and a fashionable jumper. When her sister saw her, she ran towards her shouting.

"Arya!" Sansa threw herself at Arya, hugging her tightly.

"Hey…Sansa," she muttered into her sister's shoulder. It felt weird, because hadn't she dated Joffrey? Wouldn't she be the…_enemy_?

"I'm so sorry," her sister said quickly. "I just…I want to clear this up immediately. I was never dating him. He made me…he _forced_ me. Things are still going not so good, however I know I can get through this. I'm so glad you called, Arya. I thought you'd never forgive me."

_I never wanted to_, she thought, but Arya found herself tearing up, something she would have never done before his death. "I'm sorry…I just…I should've known that you would never love Joffrey again. You told me when I was in the hospital, when we both swore we'd have nothing to do with him again…" _I broke that promise as well_, Arya thought, as she remembered Beric and the folder in her underwear drawer.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Sansa was sobbing, and they both were still holding each other as they went inside. The house was nice and quiet. "I know you probably didn't come over here to hear me babble on about my mistake…so, what's up?"

Arya couldn't help but smile. Her sister knew her too well. "I need…a dress."

"For the Baratheon Dance? Who's taking you?"

"Gendry," she muttered.

Sansa blinked at her. "He isn't your _boyfriend_, is he? Does Jon know? Does Catelyn know? Does Robb know? When did this happen?"

"_He isn't my boyfriend_!" Arya shouted, before quickly calming herself. "It's just as friends, but I don't want to look like a bloody…slob."

"Well then…you should have come earlier! Then we could go shopping. But the dance is _tonight_, Arya, and oh god, it's nearly three in the afternoon! What time does the dance start again? Theon's picking me up at seven…it starts at seven thirty, doesn't it?" Sansa babbled on.

"_Theon's_ taking you? Are you serious?"

"What's so bad about that? It's just as friends, except in my case, we are actually just friends, though with you and Gendry…"

"We're friends," Arya snapped.

"Right, right, of course. Now, dresses. We can either go shopping quickly, or maybe we should pick one of mine and then I can do your hair all nice and make up as well," her sister said.

"Let's just pick from your wardrobe."

Sansa's room was upstairs, and not much had been packed into the shelves, however the closet was full, as well as the vanity. All of the dresses were hung up neatly, and her sister began to spread out make up among the vanity, and picked out a few dresses.

"Do any of these catch your eye?" she asked.

Arya stared at them. There was a red one, a pastel yellow one which she just knew would look _awful_ on her, a deep green one, and a sapphire one. "The sapphire one," she replied. "It looks alright, however that pastel yellow one…"

"Oh thank god. Sorry, that was sort of a mini test…I was worried your fashion sense had stooped extremely low, so I just threw that in there. It's actually Margaery's, and it looks great on her. When I tried it on, though, I looked…oh god, I looked like a bowl of banana custard. It was _awful_."

They both laughed, and it felt so good to be back with Sansa, doing nice things, that Arya forgot all about the time and her dad and Gendry. She tried on the sapphire dress, and it actually looked pretty nice. It was strapless, though, which annoyed her, however it was long with slight pleating. Sansa found a nice white belt and buckled it around her waist.

"Jewelry!" her sister announced, pulling out a box. They sampled different jewlerry, from the neck to the wrists to the fingers, until finally Arya had a simple gold necklace around her neck, a large bluey ring and some simple silver bracelets. Sansa began to get changed, and they talked about university and career choices and boys and everything.

"Any boys that have caught your eye?" her sister asked, as she began pulling up Arya's hair into a nice updo.

"No. There's an okay boy in my mythology class called Ned. His full names Edric Dayne. What about you?"

"Oh lord, _boys_. I can't even begin to…I mean, I thought I liked Loras, Margaery's brother, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't swing that way. Tell me about Gendry. I don't know much about him."

And so she launched into a description of her stubborn roommate. "He's got blue eyes and dark hair, and he's fairly tall. He's quite muscular, as well, but oh my god, he's _so_ stubborn, but he's actually pretty nice. And he always sounds sincere and honest, and he's rather blunt but he's nice, and his eyes kind of look like Joffrey's but _better_, you know?" It ook Arya a minute to realise she had just rambled on about a boy she was going to dance with, and they were supposedly 'just friends'.

Sansa was giving her a knowing look. "Are you sure you're just friends?"

"I don't like him. He's stubborn, like I said."

Her sister laughed. "Okay then," she said smoothly. "Now, close your eyes. I think some simple winged eyeliner would look good on you, and that's all."

When they were both done getting ready, Arya couldn't believe. She looked _good_, and pretty, and so did Sansa. They were both looking nice and neat and young and happy.

"We look good," she told her sister, who hugged her.

"Yeah," Sansa replied. "We do."

* * *

Gendry hadn't even thought about how he was going to meet Arya at the dance. Was he meant to pick her up? She hadn't been at home all day, and he was beginning to worry. Surely some arrogant prick hadn't come along and bashed her, like last time? He hated worrying, and it was annoying him. The suit he was wearing was itchy and tight, as it had been a long time since had last worn it.

His phone beeped suddenly, and it was a message from Arya.

**Arya: **_I'm outside, if you want to get your car and we can go now. It starts in about twenty minutes._

He hurried outside, and there she was, standing rather awkwardly in the driveway. She was wearing high heels and a _dress_, and even make up. Arya looked so different that for a moment all he could do was stare, because truly, she looked amazing. Compared to her, he probably looked rather scruffy and unkempt.

"Hey…" she said awkwardly. "Erm…do you want to go?"

Gendry quickly tore his gaze away, just in case she thought he was staring, which he…wasn't. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

They got in his car, and there was another uncomfortable silence. He turned the music up, but not too loud. Just enough to make it seem less awkward and more…natural, although it wasn't working. They were both clearly very tense, not that he could blame that. Arya looked amazing, and he thought so, and he didn't know if _she_ knew, but maybe she was…

_Oh god, you're sounding like a bloody love sick fool_, Gendry thought.

"You look nice," Arya finally said, looking at him and smiling slightly.

"Oh…" He paused, feeling embarrassed. Since when had girls made him feel like this? "Thanks. You look lovely. Did Edmure's girlfriend help you?"

"No, Sansa did. She told me the truth about Joffrey, and said that he was forcing her to date him. He threatened her. And then we spent the rest of the day just getting ready."

"So everything's alright with Sansa? Do Jon and Robb know?" he asked.

"Do Jon and Robb know that we're going together?" Arya suddenly said randomly. "I think that's…"

"No, they don't," Gendry interrupted her. "I didn't think it was necessary to tell them. It's just as friends, so it's not like it's some kind of date." He hated it that it kind of hurt to say that. _Stop it_, he thought to himself harshly.

"Yeah," she said softly.

They arrived at the hall in which the dance would be in, and already it was crowded. Soft classical music was blaring from outside, and two people stood at the door, clearly body guards. There were a lot of people, he couldn't help but notice. When they reached the two guards, Gendry realised that it was Sandor Clegane and…some other even bigger runt, who looked a lot like him. Arya seemed to tense beside him.

"You gonna stand there all day?" Sandor snapped. "Go in."

He quickly hurried in, dragging Arya after him, as she seemed frozen to the spot.

"What is it?" he asked, when they were inside. Gendry took her to a corner in the room, where the food was.

"That's him," she whispered. "The man on the right. Not Sandor, the other one. He was the one who attacked me."

He wanted to go outside and punch whoever that person was, and yell and scream. Instead, Gendry took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "We'll find out who he is," he promised. "Now, come on. Let's try and find the others."

They found Sansa with Robb and Theon, talking happily among themselves, and Gendry apologised to Sansa for behaving so poorly when they had first spoken. Robb was with Jeyne, one armed wrapped around her waist, while Theon and Sansa were just talking casually amongst themselves. Jon was on the dance floor, dancing with Ygritte, however they seemed to be having a playful argument about it. Arya had disappeared, saying she wanted to find a few people. And now he was alone, leaning against a wall.

Joffrey was with some beautiful brown haired woman, walking amongst people, faking politeness. It would be awhile until the Baratheon asshole came towards him. He finally spotted Arya, and he nearly coughed violently when he saw who she was with. She had briefly told him about this Edric Dayne person, saying he was in her mythology class and that they often sat together. They were _dancing_, and wasn't that his job? _Why are you jealous? She can dance with whoever she wants_, he thought harshly, however he still felt extremely...weird.

Arya was laughing, as well, as they spun around happily. Didn't he make her happy? _Just find the courage and ask her to dance_, he thought to himself, yet he didn't want to interrupt them. Would it be considered rude? Or impolite?

"Gendry, is that you?" a voice suddenly asked, and Gendry turned to see Joffrey with the brown haired girl clutching his arm. "It is," Joffrey confirmed, faking a smile.

"Yeah," he replied. "Good…evening, Joffrey."

"It is, isn't it? I just hope no one ruins it." The Baratheon shot a pointed look at him, before turning back to the woman. "This is Margaery Tyrell. I was going to take the lovely Sansa Stark, as…well, do keep this a secret, won't you, Gendry? I am planning on proposing to her, so we can be united as one. Won't that be marvellous?"

Gendry stared at Margaery, however the Tyrell woman gave nothing away, except a nice elegant smile on her face. "That's lovely," he said tightly, although didn't Sansa already know that?

"It is," Joffrey agreed. "I think we should catch up later, Gendry. We haven't spoken in so long. I have missed your company much, and we are technically like brothers, aren't we?"

He tensed visibly, and his half-brother's smile widened. "Yeah, sure. We can catch up anytime. You still have my number."

"Of course. I will call you later. Nice talking to you, Gendry."

"Lovely to meet you," Margaery said politely, still smiling, and he watched as the couple left, talking amongst themselves.

_Fucking bastard_, he thought icily. Joffrey nearly always mentioned their family being partly 'related', and Gendry didn't even want to think of it. He'd have to tell Arya, soon, as well, as she had gone to the dance with him. His 'date' had finished her dance with Edric, and she was now by the drinks table alone, sipping some type of punch. _Now, go, ask her now, just do it_!

Gendry approached her warily, and when she saw him coming she smiled.

"Hey!" she shouted over the music, waving him over. "Sorry about that…I probably should have danced with you first, but Ned asked me for a small dance and he's a nice guy."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Do you want to dance now?" Gendry expected her to shake her head and apologise, or shrug in that way that clearly said she didn't want to.

"Sure," Arya said instead, and she sounded…almost happy.

Gendry offered his arm, and she took it, and they made their way to the middle of the room where couples were dancing. Unsurprisingly, Arya couldn't dance that well, and with the high heels, she occasionally tripped, however he quickly grabbed her. It had been his mum who had taught him to dance, and he could do it fairly well. It felt nice, and normal, to dance with Arya, and instead of just dancing for one song, it turned into two, three, four, five, six…

When they finally stopped and made their way to the punch table, they were both out of breath and smiling, and it felt like such a good night. Gendry couldn't stop smiling, and Arya was laughing.

"I _suck_ at dancing," she told him as he got them both some punch.

"I didn't notice," he replied sarcastically, and she punched him in the shoulder playfully.

They watched the people dance in a comfortable silence, far better than the one when they drove to the dance. Arya looked happy and seemed a lot more at ease.

"I know who attacked me, by the way. The name of the guy," she told him.

"Who?" Gendry demanded. "I'll…well, I'll do something."

"It's Gregor Clegane, Sandor's older brother. I don't think you want to get on the wrong side of him."

He nodded slowly. "Fair enough."

"So are you going to tell me about your little…thing with my father or whatever?" Arya asked suddenly. "Maybe this isn't exactly the best place to talk about it, but you _did_ promise me."

Gendry sighed. "No place is the best place," he said dryly. "So it may as well be here. Your father visited me a few days before his death and asked those questions. I didn't know why he asked them, or anything. It wasn't until later that my mum told me who my father was and why your dad visited…." He paused, and Arya seemed to look at him, urging him on. "My father was Robert Baratheon," Gendry finally said. "I never knew him, and he never tried to know me. The reason why I didn't tell you this is because…well, I'm not sure. But I do know Joffrey. He tried…getting to know me, for some unknown reason. He came to me before I came here, to Winterfell, and we hung out quite a few times. At the start, he seemed like a nice guy, but I'm pretty sure he just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to take over Baratheon Corp."

"Is that it?" she asked, and she didn't look sad or confused or disappointed or anything. Just…fine with it. "That's fine. I don't really mind. Your father…well, he's a bit of an asshole, and sure, he kind of messed up my families life, but you're not your father."

"Definitely not," he agreed.

"What is Baratheon Corp. anyway? Is it some kind of mining company or…?"

"It's not really anything. It owns a shit load of businesses, like petrol stations, mining companies, supermarkets. I think it started out as a mechanic business, and I'm pretty sure they still do that, but it's more of an owner of things, like a share holder, y'know?"

Arya nodded. "Yeah…it sounds stupid," she said.

He grinned at her. "Really stupid. Are you up for another dance?"

She smiled and huffed. "You think I'm not?"

"Maybe."

"You stupid bull. Let's go, and I'll prove to you that I actually _can_ dance when I want to!" Arya dragged him into the middle, smiling and laughing all the way.

* * *

**A/N: **So there you have it! I thought I'd end on a lighter note, and I know there's no interesting cliffhanger or anything but sometimes a little bit of…niceness is needed. I know there wasn't full on Gendrya action, but...I like…slow things, however this won't be extremely slow.

I'd also like to say that I'm unsure as to who I'm putting Sansa with or if I'm putting her romantically with anyone at all. This isn't a Theon/Sansa story, though, definitely not. It's more just the fact that I _love_ Theon's character, and I totally understand all the decisions he makes in the books even if a lot of people hate him. I'm thinking Sansa/Sandor, however maybe not much romantic implications. I'd love to hear what you think!

Next chapter is a bit more focused on Sansa, and the whole Joffrey thing, as well as going back to the will of Ned Stark and more Beric investigation.

Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and faved. I just love seeing all these little notifications popping up in my inbox, it makes me very happy to see that people are enjoying my writing!

Sorry for any mistakes, and I hope you enjoyed.

-Zamire


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Whoopee, another chapter...this one was slightly quicker than the other, I think, even though it's a bit shorter. Yet again, sorry for any mistakes, I still need to go back and edit the last two chapters...however I just wanted to get this one out tonight.

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**-The Key to Happiness-**

**-Chapter 7-**

The dance had possibly been the most fun Sansa had experienced in ages. Theon had been nice, and hadn't mentioned anything awkward, like all those moments when they used to date and not to mention Joffrey. He had looked extremely pissed when he saw her with Theon, but she hadn't cared. Margaery was clinging onto his arm, smiling charmingly at practically everyone. The Tyrell had chatted briefly to Sansa, however it had been short and quick.

"I've missed you, Sansa," her friend had told her sadly.

"I know. Maybe I'll come back after I've finished learning the ropes with Brienne. I really want to pursue this career, Margaery," she replied, ever so politely.

"Of course. I'll get the cook to prepare a feast when you return _home_, of lemon cakes, you're favourite."

Sansa had smiled at that comment, however she hadn't really meant it. She could hear the almost...menace in her friend's voice when she said the word 'home'. Margaery had been acting strange lately, never calling and responded to her texts, and when she did the Tyrell claimed that she was busy. It annoyed Sansa, because she had truly been a good friend to her, always listening and speaking calmly and wisely. Loras had been extremely charming as well, except for the fact that he had been the one to organise the whole thing with the Baratheons, which she still didn't understand. The Tyrells and the Baratheons scarcely knew each other, so why would they choose to live with each other?

Either way, it didn't matter. Things were for once looking up for Sansa, because Arya was now part of her life again. They had chatted after the dance on the phone, both telling each other about their time. Her sister had clearly had a lot of fun with Gendry, and she was beginning to suspect that her sister may even _like_ her roommate. Not that it was her business, of course. Arya had also said that she had something important to tell her, which was why Sansa was waiting in a small cafe - the very same on she had met Jaime and Brienne in - waiting for her sister. Unfortunately for her, Arya wasn't exactly known for her punctuality, as they had meant to have met up at noon, and it was now half past twelve.

Her sister arrived at a quarter to one, dressed in plain jeans and a top, and Sansa couldn't help but wonder how Arya could wear t-shirts when it was so cold. Sansa got up and hugged her tightly.

"For gods sake, Sansa, we saw each other yesterday and talked last night! Technically this morning, if you were really being precise."

She smiled. Arya looked a lot happier, for some reason. A smile was on her face and her cheeks were flushed red, which could have been from the cold, but she doubted it. "You look happy," Sansa commented.

Arya rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Captain Obvious. Can we order already? I'm craving a coffee hit," she replied.

"Sure, why not?" Sansa waved the waitress ordered, and ordered a skinny latte. Arya, naturally, ordered a black espresso. Her sister waited until the waitress disappeared plainly from sight before she leaned in.

"There's something I need to tell you." Her voice was low and hushed, so Sansa leaned in as well.

"What is it?"

"I've been...going to this private investigator lately. His name's Beric Dondarrion, and he's been helping me find out information about dad's death."

"_Arya_!" she snapped harshly. "Did you even think about how dangerous that is?"

"Quieten down!" her sister replied, just as angrily. "Yes, of course I did. In fact...I sort of...already had a run in."

"You...oh, you could've died for all I know! Was it Sandor Clegane? He's Joffrey's main man, so I wouldn't put it past him..." The truth was, Sansa actually didn't mind Sandor, simply because he had never been truly mean to her, and even when Joffrey had ordered him to hit her that one time, he hadn't. When she had tried to thank him, the man had simply shrugged it off.

"It was his brother, Gregor. I saw him at the dance, and remembered. It's all good, though. Nymeria saved me."

Sansa stared at her sister in shock before smiling slyly. "We really need to do a lot of catching up, don't we? Start from the beginning, then."

She listened carefully as Arya explained everything the investigator had found out, as well as adding in some personal things too. When the waitress came by to give them their drinks, they stopped the conversation quickly before resuming. Her sister told her about Nymeria, as well as how she wanted to do her own investigating, as to make the whole thing go faster. Once she was finished, Sansa nodded and finished her skinny latte.

"I can help," she said at once.

"No," Arya snapped. "You can't. You'll get hurt, and besides, Joffrey's probably keeping tabs on you. He'll know."

"I don't care. I want to help you."

"Please, Sansa. I'll tell you everything that I find out. Please, promise me that you won't do anything stupid."

"What if _you're_ doing something stupid?" Sansa asked. "I can help you. It's not like Joffrey hates me yet. Margaery doesn't, either. I can move back in with them, tell them that Brienne can help me even though I'm living there. I can _help_, Arya, more than you think."

"Yes, and risk your life doing so," her sister replied coldly. "I don't want you to die, and neither does anyone else. If Catelyn found out that I had the chance to stop you..."

"It should be _me_ protecting _you_! I'm the older sister. Just because you're so...strong and brave doesn't mean I shouldn't do anything!

Arya smiled sadly. "But I'm really not strong and brave. I'm just reckless and stupid, and I don't want you to become like me."

She opened her mouth to say something, but her sister cut her off quickly.

"Promise me you won't do anything. _Promise_."

"I promise," Sansa lied.

* * *

University was getting a bit harder again for Arya, but she didn't care. After her quick meeting with Sansa, she had to rush to make sure she made it in time to her mythology class. She was halfway there, as she had decided to run from the cafe to the uni, when a car beeped at her and she saw Gendry with his head stuck out of the window.

"Need a lift?" he called, and Arya wasted no time opening the door to the passenger seat and getting in the Holden.

"Yeah, yeah, just hurry up and drive me to uni. I'm already running late," she told him shortly, and he grinned at her.

After the dance, she had expected things to be awkward in the morning after, but it had strangely...pleasant. They had talked about random things, and about the sitcom they had both grown to be obsessed with. Arya had gone to the cafe to tell Sansa about the investigation in the best mood that she had experienced in ages. Gendry sometimes did that to her, simply by them talking. He made her feel happy, and more important than when someone like Jon or Robb would talk to her. It was probably because he was a different guy, someone who she didn't consider family or extremely close family friends.

"Impatient to spend some time with Tyrion Lannister, are we?" he asked, smirking.

"No. I just want to be on time. I usually am, except I met up with Sansa this morning."

"Just thought I'd tell you that even though you're usually on time with uni, you're not a punctual person." Somehow Gendry avoided her punch, even though he was driving the car. "Did you tell Sansa?"

Arya had told him at breakfast that she was going to tell Sansa everything in a hushed whisper, as Jon had been there. Naturally, he had looked curious, and was probably going to question her later on in the day. "Yeah, I did. I'm probably going to have to tell Jon soon, as well..."

"He'll overreact."

"Like you did? I know."

When Gendry pulled up at the uni, she got out quickly and waved to him, before hurrying into the building and going to Room 101. Everyone was seated, and the class was just about to start. Tyrion was seated as his desk, and nodded briefly when she entered. Arya hurried over to sit next to Ned, who was beckoning her over.

"You looked lovely at the dance," he said at once, even though the class was about to start and everyone was shutting up.

She blinked at him, and smiled slightly. "Thanks, Ned. You did too."

The class started, and Arya began to take notes. She felt Ned's gaze fall on her constantly, and at first it felt flattering but then...maybe just borderline creepy? It was easy to ignore, though, and when the lesson was over she quickly shooed him.

"I need to speak to Tyrion," she told him, trying to sound polite.

"Oh, I'll wait for you," he replied quickly.

"There's no need."

"No, really, I can wa-"

"There's really no need."

Ned seemed to get the hint, and smiled meekly at her. "Okay, then. I'll see you at our next lesson."

"Yeah, sure. See you," she said.

When he finally left, Arya was alone with Tyrion, who looked mildly amused.

"He seems to like you," the professor commented.

"Trust me, I know," she grumbled. "I need to ask you something, though."

Tyrion sighed loudly. "Is it about your family?"

"Yeah...I was just wondering if you knew anything. Anything at all." Arya knew that he could lie and say no, but it was clear that he hated Joffrey just as much as she did. He didn't seem too fond of his family, unless Jaime counted. She didn't even know Jaime Lannister, however if Sansa said he saved her from that bloody household, then she would tolerate him.

"Like what? The fact that my dear sister is a power-driven bitch with a crazed obsession of having Joffrey run Baratheon Corp.?"

_He must know_, she thought. _He has to know that Jon and I were put in the will_. "Do you know who the owners of that stupid company should be?" she asked, trying to sound curious.

Tyrion gave her a funny look. "Do you?" he retorted. "I thought my nephew briefed you on that particular topic."

"And do you agree with it?"

"You and Jon should be the heads of Baratheon Corp. Robert Baratheon was the head, and in his will he asked for Ned Stark to become the head. Unfortunately, both of them met their demise, and Cersei ruled out you two as the heads, not only because she wants to have her son up there but also because she claims that Eddard was never the head in the first place, so he couldn't make such decisions." The Lannister shrugged. "Quite frankly, I think you'd be a lot better than Joffrey, and I can assure you that many would agree with him."

"But why Jon?" she demanded. "And me? Why not Sansa and Robb? Or even Bran and Catelyn?"

"Who knows? Maybe he thought that if he died you would get all furious and gutsy and go for the position. And Jon...well, your father always had a soft spot for his bastard."

Arya chose to ignore the fact that he had insulted her, and in a way, Jon. It wasn't her fault that she hadn't been able to get out of bed when her father died. She didn't even notice that she had no energy, it had just happened.

"That didn't happen," she said flatly.

"No," Tyrion agreed, "it didn't. But that doesn't mean it still _can't_ happen. You can easily do something. You have the will, don't you? Bring up a court case, though I dare say my lovely sister might try to get rid of you then." For a moment he looked thoughtful. "However, I suggest you stop poking around. Leave it at the Baratheon Corp. Don't dig deeper. Your father did, and look where he is. I can assure you, Arya, I won't be too fond of you if you go digging dirt that you don't need to know. I may not care about much of my family, but I do care about my other niece and nephew, as well as Jaime."

She pursed her lips. "If my father died because of it, then I want to find out what it is," she told him coldly.

Her professor surprisingly laughed. "You are like your father," he said quietly. "It might be you're smarter than my sister. However, I seriously recommend you stop playing nicely." Tyrion stared at her with his mismatched eyes. "Is that all, then?"

"Yeah. That's fine. I'll see you next lesson." Arya left, feeling the happiness slowly seep out of her. Did Tyrion...hate her now? Or suspect her? She didn't know which was worse, but her professor was incredibly smart, and it wouldn't take him long to fit two and two together. And if _he_ knew that she was getting someone to investigate things, then did Cersei know? Or Joffrey?

The campus grounds were relatively empty, and to her relief Ned wasn't lingering around like he often did. Sometimes, Arya pretended she wanted a coffee from the shitty machine near the cafeteria, even though it was the most disgusting coffee she had ever tasted in her life. It was just that Ned didn't exactly talk about the most interesting things. Ever since she had told him that she liked fencing, he must have googled it, because now he was spewing all this knowledge that screamed Wikipedia. It was different with Gendry, because they just talked and when they didn't, the silence wasn't awkward and stupid.

Arya walked home, like she did most of the time, even though it took nearly half an hour. Jaqen had often told her that walking would have a chance at lifting her mood, due to the endorphins. She was pretty sure you got endorphins when you had sex as well, but...walking was a good alternative, she supposed.

Gendry was lounging on the couch when she got home, most likely waiting for her as there was yet another Beric Dondarrion meeting. She knew he was pissed about the fact that he knew nothing, but she planned to tell him. He could help, and would help...or at least that was what she hoped. He sat up when she opened the front door, stretching slightly.

"Can we go now? I don't want to be late," Arya told him, going upstairs to get the folder which Beric had given her. She also grabbed the piece of paper which had her father's will on it, wanting to show it to Beric.

"What's with you and being late today?" he called after her, but she heard the jiggling of the keys from her room.

Gendry almost seemed to glare at the folder when she appeared, which caused her to roll her eyes at him. Sometimes, she thought he was so stubborn and immature.

"Don't give me that look," he said dryly. "You haven't told me anything."

"Well, if you're lucky I may just allow you to come into the...interview or whatever it is," she replied coolly.

He looked shocked by her offer. "Really? I admit, I'm surprised."

"I said if you're _lucky_, and at the moment, you're not looking very lucky. So shut up and stop whining."

Gendry did a mock bow. "As m'lady commands."

Arya was annoyed that she felt her face burning up when he said that. "Shut up! That doesn't make it any better. And don't open your mouth to say anything else. Let's just _go_."

He grinned at her, but led the way to his car and got into the front seat. She followed him, clutching the folder tightly to her chest. While they drove to Beric's small apartment, they chatted idly. It was something that just...happened, with Gendry. Words just came out of her mouth and suddenly she was telling him her whole day. That was how it had been for a bit, but it had only escalated last night, after the dance. For some reason, it made Arya happy, made her forget what was really going on. Sometimes, she almost felt like a proper nineteen year old girl when she was with him, who worried about how her hair looked and who she would first have sex with and what beer to buy...

They arrived at the apartment, and he let out a big sigh, as he had the last few times.

"Can't I just wait in the car?" Gendry asked.

"I thought I said that if you were lucky I'd let you come into the meeting," she said, rolling her eyes.

"So I was lucky?"

"You could put it that way."

Surprisingly, Beric Dondarrion was waiting for them when they both entered, and another man was with them as well. He looked incredibly old, and a bit scrawny, but there was a slight smile on his face when he saw her.

"You look like Lyanna," was all he said when she entered, and Arya couldn't help but glare at him. People had often said that she looked like her aunt Lyanna, however her aunt had been _beautiful_, and she wasn't exactly that.

"Who's Lyanna?" she heard Gendry whisper in her ear after greeting the old man - who was supposedly called Thoros or something - and she elbowed him in the stomach.

"Shut up!" Arya hissed under her breath. "I'll tell you later."

Beric seemed surprised when Gendry came with them. "Is he coming in, Arya?" he asked cautiously. "Are you sure that's okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine," she dismissed. "And can _he_ come in? What's he even gonna do, anyway? Does he know something?"

Thoros laughed. "Not really," he admitted, "but I am a priest. Maybe I can preach something that will help you." The way he said it was incredibly jokingly that she ignored it.

The office was slightly crowded with four people in it, and Beric brought in two more chairs. They all gathered around the cramped desk with too many files on it, while the investigator began to rummage around in cupboards. Thoros got four bottles of beer, even though Arya had told him that she didn't want one. He settled it in front of all of them and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, Gendry...I don't know if you want to be here, lad," Beric said once he pulled out a small file. "Just for this part, I mean."

He got up to leave, but Arya grabbed his arm. For whatever reason, he could feel her hands shaking as she pulled him back down. "He's fine," she said shortly. "He can stay."

The priest seemed thoroughly amused by their behaviour for some reason, Arya couldn't help but note.

"First of all, I want you to read this." The investigator handed her a file, which she promptly opened. She could feel Gendry's breath tickling her neck, indicating that he was leaning over to see what was written. Inside, there was a small piece of paper which had a few notes of information typed on it.

**_Notes of Investigation:_**

_-A month before Eddard Stark's death, he began to visit several people for reasons unknown.  
_

_-Jon Arryn, a father figure in both Eddard Stark's and Robert Baratheon's lives, also visited these same people and died by the same mysterious circumstances. He had also been asked to take over Baratheon Corp. and had been incorporated in the will of Robert until he died._

_-A few of the people include Mya Stone, Bella, Gendry Waters, Edric Storm and Barra._

_-The people all had an uncanny resemblance to Robert Baratheon, which leads to believe that Eddard Stark and Jon Arryn were investigating the bastards of Robert, however the reasons why are unknown._

_-A few days after Gendry Waters had been visited by Jon Arryn, the man died, and the same happened to Eddard Stark._

Arya made sure her expression was completely blank, as to not hurt Gendry's feelings or anyone's' at all. She didn't really want to say what was on her mind, because technically - or maybe not - he had killed her father _and_ a father like figure in not only her life but his. Jon Arryn had visited their household on various occasions, and had been the unofficial babysitter when they were all young. He had been incredibly patient and wise, and she had grown to see him like a grandfather, as they hadn't exactly had a grandfather or a grandmother.

"What do you think?" Beric asked when she finally put the piece of paper back in the folder. Beside her, Gendry was incredibly tense.

"Do you know why they visited those people?" She tried to ignore that he was one of them, although oddly enough, it wasn't really making a difference to anything.

"No...even if they did present the evidence to Robert, he would've most likely just laughed. In any case, they had a few days to actually give the evidence to Robert, however neither did so. We think they both had other motives," the investigator explained.

"So that guy has been helping you?" Arya asked, gesturing to the priest whose name she had already forgotten.

"Thoros," he reminded, taking a large sip of beer. "And yeah, sure. Beric's an old friend, and your father and I were on quite good terms. I knew your aunt briefly, as well. I thought it would be good if I helped out."

"What about me?" she demanded. "Can I help?"

They both exchanged amused glances, while Gendry was still beside her, silent.

"It's not very safe," Beric commented offhandedly, and even though she knew it was a subtle hint telling her to drop the subject, she ignored it.

"So? I've done dangerous things before. Before he died, I was always doing stupid things. I want to help, anyway. You guys haven't found out the reason, so maybe I could. If you just tell me what you both do, then I could help!"

"It's illegal," Thoros told her slowly. "What do you think your mother would say? Or Winterfell? And Gendry?" The priest sent a pointed look at him, but he didn't move.

"I don't care! I want to find out why my father died, and I want the people who did it to pay. I don't care what you say. Even if you don't agree, I'll just do it myself which would be even more dangerous!" Arya yelled angrily. "He's _my_ father."

"And your father wouldn't have wanted you to do this. He wouldn't have wanted you to even go to me. He would have wanted you to be happy and safe," Beric said calmly.

"If he wanted me to be happy and safe, then why did he include me in his will?"

Beside her, Gendry seemed to wake from his slumber and glare at her sharply. "What will? You never told me about any will, Arya." There was almost a tone of accusation in his voice.

"Show it to us," Thoros replied at once.

Arya got the rather crumpled will out of her pocket and handed it to them. They both seemed to almost glare at it intently, as it were a ticking bomb.

"Who gave this to you?" Beric finally asked, putting down the piece of paper onto the desk. Gendry picked it up at once, and proceeded to read it.

"Joffrey," she mumbled, "Joffrey Baratheon."

They all stared at her. "And what else did he say?" the investigator questioned slowly. "Did he threaten you?"

"He said that I can't pursue it...because Baratheon Corp. was rightfully his. I never told Jon, either. He didn't really threaten me...I mean, he kind of did, but it was more subtle."

Beric seemed to think for a moment. "Do you know why Jon would be included? This isn't an insult, Arya, however he is a bastard. Why would Ned include him in the will when everyone knows that fact?"

"I don't know," she replied. "That's why I'm saying I'll _help_. So then we can find out everything."

"I'll help too," Gendry said at once.

Arya quickly hid her smile, because she had hoped he'd say that. _He's on your side, he's your friend, he's the closest friend you've ever had, even closer than Hot Pie and Lommy. It's real, Arya, it's real_, she thought, even though she didn't quite now _what_ was real.

"I suppose we can all help," Thoros finally announced. "The will helps, though. I'm not sure why your father would put you down, and not Sansa and Robb, as they are the oldest. However, I suppose we can find out."

"I'll text Gendry the details later on, when we've planned everything out," the investigator told them.

"Is there anything else?" she asked. "That you've found out?"

"You the man who attacked you, right? It was Gregor Clegane, Sandor's brother, who is the bodyguard of Joffrey. I don't think that connection has much to do with it, but I do believe that Gregor is one of Cersei's men. She would most likely of found out that you were investigating into your father's death, which makes her incredibly suspicious. We believe that she was probably the main mastermind behind everything and not Joffrey," Beric explained.

"How did someone find out?" Arya demanded. "It's not like I made it extremely obvious..."

"It could have been the Imp," she heard Thoros mumble under his breath.

"No. He's my professor. Besides, I talked to him before I came here. He does already know, but he hates Cersei as much as we do."

"So someone told all of the Lannisters, and that probably includes Tywin," Beric concluded. "He's probably the most deadly, Arya. He has a lot of power. We'll look into how they found out, though."

"And we can help," Gendry pointed out. "So don't forget."

Beric and Thoros exchanged amused glances. "I doubt we will," they said together.

* * *

"I want to move out," Sansa said bravely to Brienne that night, and just as she had suspected, the older woman looked up in shock.

"_What_? Sansa, don't be ridiculous," she replied at once.

"I'm not being ridiculous. My sister...she needs help with some things. I can only help if I'm at the Baratheon mansion. Besides, doesn't Jaime still live there? Won't he protect me?"

"Jaime isn't exactly a knight in shining armour, Sansa. He may not be the man who used to be, but he certainly isn't any hero."

"_You_ trust him," Sansa pointed out. "Why shouldn't I?"

Brienne sighed, sounding defeated already. "And what will you tell Joffrey?" she asked.

"Anything. That I realised I truly loved him, and that I could put the police career on hold. I'll even marry him. I don't care."

"What's gotten into you?"

Sansa didn't know, really. It was just...she wanted to help out her family. She had called Robb after she had met up with Arya, and told him everything. He had told Theon, and they both responded well, and told her that they were on to it. In a way, she wanted revenge, because now it seemed that their father hadn't just _died_, that he'd been almost murdered. It was only right for them to try and avenge him. Even though she knew he wouldn't come back, it would feel...proper, somehow.

"I've always been doing nothing," Sansa finally replied. "I was always simpering around dresses and make up and bloody Joffrey. I want to _help_, for once, be useful. Can I go tonight? _Please_. I need to do this. I can't wait another minute."

"You met up with your sister yesterday morning, didn't you?" Brienne asked cautiously. "I don't think you should move in _now_. What would he say? They'd all be pretty suspicious, don't you think?"

"It doesn't matter what they all think, only Joffrey."

The older woman sighed loudly. "This sounds awfully reckless," she commented.

"It is," Sansa admitted, "but that doesn't mean it isn't the right thing to do. Sometimes you just have to do what you think is right, and damn the costs."

"And is that what you want? You might have to marry him, share his bed, pretend to love him."

"It's not what I want, but who cares? It will _lead_ to what I want," she told Brienne.

"Avenging your father won't bring him back."

"I know. But it will make us feel...more complete. We're a group, a pack, all the Starks, plus maybe Theon."

"And now?" Brienne said, incredulous. "You just want to show up on their doorstep at ten o'clock at night, demanding to be let in?"

"He'll do it," Sansa replied confidently. "He'll let me in."

For a moment they were both silent, the older woman clearly thinking. Personally, Sansa didn't see much of a problem with it. Sure, it was dangerous and maybe a bit reckless, but it was what she wanted to do. She was nearly twenty one, and she could take care of herself. _I can do it, with Robb and Theon and Arya and everyone on my side_, she thought. _Maybe even Jon, once Arya tells him_. It was weird, how her sister hadn't told Jon, as they were incredibly close. Even their roommate, Gendry, whom Arya seemed to have grown attached to, knew. Usually Arya shared everything with her half-brother. It didn't matter, though. Jon technically wasn't a Stark, even though he had grown up with them. Yet still, Sansa knew that he was nice and kind and would undoubtedly help them, after he got over the initial shock of being left out.

"Go and pack then," Brienne finally said. "I feel like I'm doing the wrong thing, though."

"You aren't," Sansa quickly assured her. "Will you take me there?"

"Yes, and I'll make sure to come in as well. Just to make sure Joffrey gets the message."

She smiled, and ran up to her room to run. As she was slamming whatever clothes she had brought into her suitcase, she quickly texted Arya, telling her that she would be moving in to the Baratheon mansion pretty much now, and that she had no need to worry and to give her a call later. Packing everything was easy, as Sansa hadn't been staying with Brienne long enough to fully unpack everything. Once she finished, she dragged the suitcase downstairs, where Brienne was waiting in her cop uniform.

"That'll scare him," she told the older woman, who smiled slightly in response.

The drive was quiet and tense, and even though Sansa had felt confident before, the nerves were suddenly taking over. What if Joffrey didn't believe her, or if he ordered Sandor Clegane to kill her? No, he wouldn't do that, would he? And even if he did, Sandor wouldn't kill her. There were so many doubts in her mind that she barely noticed it when they arrived at the mansion until Brienne opened her door for her.

"Oh..." she mumbled, her tongue feeling thick and heavy. "Thanks."

It was Brienne who rung the doorbell, Brienne who walked through first, and Brienne who carried her suitcase. All the courage had gone, and even though she still felt positive that he would let her back in, there was still the nerves. As usual, Joffrey was in the dining room, eating with his family with Sandor Clegane behind him. Dread filled her when she saw Cersei Lannister sitting there, talking calmly with Jaime whilst pointedly ignoring Tyrion. To her surprise as well, Margaery was _laughing_ with Joffrey, while it was _Loras_ who looked incredibly tense and unhappy. They all looked up when she entered.

"Sansa!" Cersei said at once, getting up and brushing invisible specks of her lavish gown. "How lovely for you to return to your home, little dove." The woman pointedly ignored Brienne as well, and instead hugged Sansa, however it was a tense and awkward embrace.

Joffrey stopped his conversation with Margaery, and instead turned his focus to her. "Are you back, then?" he asked, sounding as if he didn't care either way.

"I want to be with you, Joff," Sansa lied easily. "I can put this career on hold, all to be with you."

For some strange reason, he looked almost pained, as if it was hard for him to say yes. _That's odd_, she thought. _He always usually falls for the lies whenever I call him Joff_. It was strange, as well, when Margaery and him exchanged a glance that she recognised too well. _No, it can't be, that'll ruin everything_!

"That was fast," she heard Tyrion stage whisper to Jaime, and Cersei shot looks at them both.

"Of course you will get married to Joff, darling," the Lannister woman said at once. "Won't you, Joff?"

Joffrey coughed slightly. "Of course," he muttered, and she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

He was _flustered_. He was _embarrassed_. Never in her life had Sansa seen him like this, and it felt weird. It made her feel even less confident. Beside her, Brienne gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Margaery stood up, finally, dressed in a beautiful dress. She approached Sansa with all the dignity she had, which was a lot. "Sansa," the Tyrell woman said, holding her hands. "It's so lovely of you to return to us."

It felt weird, it felt unnatural, and for the first time ever she could see how Margaery's smile didn't quite reach her eyes, and how the words seemed so fake when she listened carefully.

"Thanks, Margaery," she replied lamely. _They're dating, or they like each other. I can tell, I'm not an idiot_.

"We should arrange the wedding soon," Cersei interrupted the silence, smiling slyly. "I'm sure Tywin will be very pleased, won't he, Jaime?"

Jaime was too distracted with glaring at Brienne to notice what she said, which pleased the Lannister woman even more.

"I should unpack..." Sansa finally said weakly. "And then might I join you all?"

"Join us all you like, Sansa," Tyrion replied, which shocked her. "Did your sister tell you I'm her professor? She's a rather good student, I'm afraid to tell you."

Cersei glared at her younger brother, while she smiled gratefully at him. Brienne handed her the suitcase, and she made her way upstairs. Her room remained untouched, except for it being cleaned. It felt too small, too contained, however she ignored it all. _I'm not here for myself_, she thought. _I can lie. They taught me how, they all did, by lying to me_. And so when Sansa went downstairs to say goodbye to Brienne and join them all for dinner, she felt more confident with each bite of the food. She easily lied to Margaery, complimenting her hair and how divine she looked, and did the same to Cersei. They sucked up her lies easily, and when Sansa went upstairs to prepare for bed, she felt happier and lighter as she glided around her room in her pajamas, getting ready for bed and trying to stay quiet.

A knock on her door interrupted her happy mood, and she opened it, expecting to see Margaery or Jaime, or maybe even Cersei. Instead, Sandor Clegane stood there, the scar on his cheek looking more prominent in the dim light. He looked tall and scary, and rather...handsome, though, she couldn't help but note. Fear still filled her, though, and she stepped back at once.

"W-what is it?" Sansa asked, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice and failing.

He seemed to stare right through her. "You're not really planning on marrying that prick, are you?" he asked gruffly, and she stared at him in shock. They had spoken on a few occasions, however mostly they were often accompanied by others, and it was either him telling her she should man up or polite chatter that was mostly one sided.

"Of course I am," she said smoothly. "Joff is my one true love."

Sandor laughed hoarsly, and it scared her. "I'll admit, you've gotten better at lying, little bird. I bet you're planning on doing some little digging, are you? I suggest you don't. The Lannisters are nasty people."

She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped. _Is he on their side? I can't tell_, she thought, but somehow Sansa found herself opening the door to her room and gesturing him in. He looked just as surprised as she felt, but he stepped inside and snorted at the mess of clothes spilling out of her suitcase, as well as the make up on the vanity.

"Are you on their side?" she demanded fiercely. "Because if you are..."

"You'll kill me, will you?" Sandor laughed. "I doubt that, little bird. I'm not on anyone's side. You should remember that, before you make offers."

"Who said I was going to make an offer?"

"I can tell."

Sansa glared at him, because he was right. She had wanted him to help her, like he had those few times when Joffrey had been particular violent. This was no different, right? _He can help me_, she thought. _He has to_.

"Will you help me?" she asked bravely. "I don't care if you say no."

"And what if I were to tell little _Joff_ about this? What then, little bird?" he countered.

"Then do it. I'll just leave again. They can't hurt me."

"But they can hurt your family."

"Maybe," she admitted, "but he's all talk and no walk."

"And you're not," Sandor retorted gruffly. "You speak so bravely, little bird, but you would be in big trouble if I were to run to _Joff _now."

"You can leave, then," Sansa said finally. "Leave." She didn't know where the courage had come from. It was just she knew that she was _better_ than them, all of them, Margaery included. There were people on her side.

He seemed to think for a moment, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key. Without even looking like he cared, Sandor tossed it onto the ground. "That might come in handy," he told her, and without another word he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Sansa picked up the key and stared at it. She recognised it easily. It was the one that unlocked the basement, which had an office that contained all the files and records on Baratheon Corp. and everything related to it. A smile lit up her face, and she shoved the key into a pocket of a random jumper before huddling into bed.

_He's on my side,_ she thought happily.

* * *

Arya had been awfully quiet after the whole Beric meeting and Gendry was beginning to wonder if it was because of him. Yes, her father had visited him, and Jon Arryn before him, and they had both died a few days after. That didn't make him evil or anything. It wasn't his fault, but he was beginning to wonder if she knew that. Even Jon was beginning to get suspicious, as dinner was usually a loud affair. That night, however, it was quiet, and Arya barely ate anything and went upstairs. Gendry ate all of it and then went outside to have a cigarette. He had been doing _well_ for the past few days, only having one or even none at all. There was something in his head that told him it was Arya, but he refused to believe it.

Even though he wanted to confront her, he didn't. Gendry lay awake, staring at the ceiling, hearing Jon play guitar softly and Arya scribble on a piece of paper. Usually, they were all either watching T.V or chatting about something or another. Instead, everyone was quiet and in their rooms, even though it was only ten o'clock or so. It annoyed him, because he wanted to apologise to her, even though he didn't really do anything. Or at least _talk_ to her, maybe. Jon would probably try and eavesdrop, though, if he heard them go downstairs or something.

Without thinking, Gendry grabbed his phone and began to text Arya, hoping she would respond.

_**Gendry Waters: **I need to talk to you. Tell Jon you're going to visit a friend or something and I'll meet you out the front_.

Unsurprisingly, he got no response, but several minutes later he heard her leave her room and tell Jon she was going out. As per usual, her brother told her to be careful, and Gendry couldn't help but smile when he heard the front door close. Just in case, he waited five minutes or so before slipping out, telling Jon he was having another cigarette. His roommate gave him a scathing look, but didn't say anything.

Outside it was freezing, yet Arya was somehow wearing a t-shirt, and she stared at him as he approached her.

"What is it?" she asked, and there was no anger in her voice.

"You seem quiet," he told her. "I was just wondering if you were...upset."

"Of _course_ I'm upset, you stupid bull! My father was quite possibly _murdered_. But I'm not upset with you, if that's what you mean. You didn't do anything wrong. It's just like I was doing well and I was happy and it _always_ comes back to the fact that my dad's dead. I just can't seem to get over it, and it annoys me! Everyone dies eventually, yet it still hurts."

Gendry felt like he should hug her, but he didn't know if she would let him. "I think that...the pain doesn't really go away. We just sort of learn to cope, y'know?"

"No, I _don't_ know!" she yelled angrily. "Everyone seems to have gotten over it, which is fucking fantastic for them, but for me...sometimes it just hits me. I'll never see him again. I'll never hear his voice. He'll never be there for me like he always was."

"There are others," he replied slowly, unsure what to say.

"Like who? Jon? Sure, he loves me and all, and understands, but...he's just so bloody big brotherly and does that whole 'I must protect you' shit. Sansa doesn't understand, and neither do the others."

"Like me," Gendry said quietly.

Arya stared at him for a moment, before he saw a tear roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, before more followed. Suddenly she was hugging him, her arms wrapped around his middle because she couldn't exactly reach his neck. He wrapped his arms around her as well, holding her tightly to his chest. Even though she wasn't exactly crying, he could still feel his jumper getting slightly wet as a few tears dropped onto it. Not that he really cared.

After awhile, he pulled her back to arms length, and she smiled slightly. She looked pretty, no, beautiful, he realised. Even if she was just wearing a baggy t-shirt and an old pair of jeans, and her mascara was slightly smudged and her hair a mess from the mind, she still looked amazing. Gendry felt the sudden urge to lean in and close the distance between them, but he couldn't, could he? She was his _roommate_, his best friend's _sister_. She wasn't just some random uni chick he found on the streets. He couldn't just...

_You can_, a voice in his head whispered. _Just lean in and kiss her_!

Gendry found himself pulling her closer, and dipping his head towards hers. Her eyes seemed to widen slightly, as if she realised what was happening, before she closed her eyes. For some reason, he felt more nervous than he ever had with any other girl. Usually it was just his heart beating faster than usual. Now, though, his hands were sweaty, he felt hot and everything just seemed so good. His lips were about to touch hers, just millimeters away before he realised what he was doing. Without thinking, he quickly dipped his forehead into hers, and pulled away. Arya seemed to stare at him in shock, as if she couldn't quite believe what had just happened. He couldn't, either.

He smiled slightly at her. "Good night, Arya," he said, and it took all his courage to walk away from her and into the house and not kiss her senseless.

* * *

**A/N: **So...yeah, there you have it. I'm not sure why, but this chapter was hard to write up. Don't really know why, though. Although from this point on, things are going to heat up...in a Gendrya sense? The next chapter has quite a few moments planned and I'm pretty sure I'll write them in. One of them was supposed to be in this chapter, but it just didn't happen. Sometimes I find this story has a life of it's own. The next chapter is set in Riverrun...I don't mean it's focused on Catelyn, but it's just set in Riverrun...who knows what that could mean? Also more Sandor/Sansa moments, which is good depending on your opinion I suppose...oh well.

Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved and followed. Reviews just inspire me so much, and make me feel like typing a whole chapter up. Yet again, sorry for any mistakes and all that stuff! I'll try and go over the chapter soon.

Thanks for reading!

-Zamire


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **First off, sorry for the wait for this chapter. I've been busy with homework and studies as school has stared again and everything's just crazy. Anyway, here's the next chapter which is sort of shorter than usual? Also, thank you so much for the feedback from the last chapter! It was really nice to see that people are enjoying the story and even just a small review is amazing. I hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

**-The Key to Happiness-**

**-Chapter 8-**

Avoiding a roommate was one of the hardest things Arya had ever done. It was simply because she _lived_ with Gendry, she saw him every day. He got up earlier than her, which meant that she had to change her sleeping schedule. Instead of sleeping in until Jon came in and woke her up, she was forced to wake up at around six o'clock every morning. Naturally, Jon had become suspicious and asked her about it, but she lied and told him that she was running. At night, Arya had suddenly become a social butterfly and started hanging out with whoever. Hot Pie and Lommy were suddenly her best friends again, and even Edric Dayne made a guest appearance.

All because stupid Gendry had tried to kiss her three days ago.

In a way, she didn't exactly _know_ that he had been about to kiss her. She wasn't an idiot, though. He had leaned in, and she had _closed her eyes _and practically screamed at him to do it! Arya was still unsure why she had given him free reign. Gendry could have, but he didn't, which confused her even now. The morning after the kiss, she had raced to Brienne's house, until remembering that Sansa had _moved_. They had then met up a cafe, where she had ranted everything to Sansa.

"I mean, why didn't he? He had the chance, so why not?" she had snapped at her sister as they sipped their coffees.

"Did you want him to?" Sansa asked.

"Well...sure, why not? I didn't really not want him to..."

"Maybe you were sending off some weird moody vibes like you usually do."

"I wasn't!" Arya huffed angrily. "I was practically giving him all the signs to do it."

"Don't tell me you've been googling 'Five Signs That A Boy Is Going To Kiss you'."

That had ended their conversation, yet that same night on the phone, Sansa had even admitted that she didn't know why he hadn't done it. Of course then her sister had proceeded to begin a massive lecture on why you shouldn't ignore boys when they had just given you all the right signs.

It was _stupid_ how much she was panicking. She had barely seen him for past three days, and when she had he always seemed to hurry towards her, trying to get her attention. That was why Arya began to walk around everywhere with a friend, particularly Ned Dayne as he was a boy and Gendry knew him. This _wasn't_ to play hard to get, it was more to make him not talk to her. Clearly, it was working, as whenever Ned was over he got all huffy and angry, often leaving the house completely. If he had never tried to kiss her, she wouldn't be doing this!

Which was why she found herself at yet another club Lommy had suggested on a Friday night. Ned was there too, which was odd because he had never met her old high school friends. They seemed to get along fine, so Arya left them alone at the bar to go and dance. She hadn't exactly dressed up, so not many men were leering at her, which was just how she liked it. It was a lot easier to dance wildly when some hormonal twenty year old had his hands on her hips. Unless, of course, he looked suspiciously like a certain roommate...

_Shut up, Arya_! she thought hastily, hurrying to the bar. If her thoughts were going to be like this tonight, then she would most definitely get drunk as to not remember half of all the...weird things she was thinking. Hot Pie already looked half drunk.

"How many shots have you had, Hot Pie?" she snapped as she made her way over to the group, hands on her hips.

"A feeeeeew." He hiccuped after his slurred sentence. "How 'bout we dance, Aryaaa?"

She rolled her eyes at him, and sat on the other side of Ned as to get away from him. "You're not drinking?" Arya asked when she realised that he wasn't holding anything.

He shook his head. "Getting drunk has never gone well for my family..."

_Oh lord, I didn't come here to hear a sob story_, she thought, but quickly pushed it away. "Do you want to talk about it?" It was easy to feign kindness and understanding.

Ned smiled at her. "No, I doubt you came here to listen to my life story."

Arya nodded quickly, grinning at him before ordering another shot, which she gulped down quickly. Her phone started ringing, but she took one look at it, saw it was Gendry and promptly clicked the ignore button. Tonight was _her_ night, not that stupid bulls. She hurried out onto the dance floor, grabbing Hot Pie and Lommy's hands and dragging them out there too. The music was wild and loud, as was everyone else. It felt nice and she felt _free_, like those times when she was laughing with Gendry and smiling with him and even just talking to him...

_You're an idiot_.

"Another shot!" she shouted at them both over the music, dragging them back to the bar. She proceeded to do this for the rest of the hour, until she was on her fifth and Hot Pie stopped her.

"You're really teeny tiny, Arya. I don't think you should drink anymore!" he told her.

Arya was about to open her mouth and call him an idiot when Ned came over, his face looking cold and stern. She grinned at him when he arrived, until she saw her phone in his hand and glared.

"You can't just answer someone's phone!" she spat furiously at him.

"It was ringing an awful lot," he commented dryly. "And besides, it's a good thing I answered it. It's your brother. He wants to speak to you."

She blinked, and took the phone off him, pressing it to her ear. "Jon?" she asked.

"Are you _drunk_?" someone who _wasn't_ Jon demanded to know. "What do you think you're doing?"

It was him, him, _him_. Arya was about to press 'End Call' when Ned grabbed her arm and mouth something that looked suspiciously like 'Just listen!'. She took a deep breath, before pressing the phone to her ear again. "What is it?"

"You are the most ridiculous, infuriating, ign-"

"If you're here to insult me then I'll hang up!" she shouted.

"Fine," Gendry snapped. "I didn't call to insult you anyway. I called to say that your _mother_, or should I say _Catelyn_ as you call her, has been hit by a car. She's in hospital. You have a plane flight in an hour. Don't blame me if you miss it." He hung up.

She stared into the air for a moment, and heard her friends call her name. There was no longer any freedom in the buzz of the vodka or the music. Her fingers fumbled as she dialed the number to call a taxi and told the driver the address hurriedly. _Do I go to the airport, or home_? she thought numbly, everyone a haze.

Arya finally turned to Ned, realising the situation. "You said it was my _brother_!" she snapped.

"Oh, wasn't it? It said 'Jon' on the caller ID." He was lying, feigning innocence, she could see it. It _had_ said Jon on the caller ID, but he knew Gendry's voice.

"Doesn't matter anyway. I'm going. You can stay. Tell Tyrion I'll be gone for a bit. And if you can, tell my graphics professor the same thing."

Without a word at them, she turned on her heel and marched out to wait in the freezing cold for a taxi. It didn't affect her, like usual, and when the taxi came to pick her up she numbly told him to go to the airport and he stared at her curiously.

"Don't you have any luggage?" he asked.

"No," she replied lazily, leaning back on the chair. All she had was the small bag she had packed for the club, which contained her phone, keys and money. She couldn't believe she was going to show up to the hospital where her _mother_ could be _dying_ in a short tight red dress. It wasn't extremely short, but still. When the taxi arrived at the airport, she shoved the money at him and dashed out. Gendry had said the flight was in an hour, and it had been around forty minutes. Arya ran blindly into the airport, telling herself not to think. It was better that way.

She was running mindlessly through the airport, her hair whipping wildly around her when she realised she didn't even know which terminal the flight was on. Without thinking, she dialed Gendry's number and pressed the phone to her air.

"Which terminal?" Arya asked breathlessly when he finally answered.

"Look behind you," was all he said, and when she turned she saw him standing there, looking rather beaten and lost.

She didn't even hesitate to hang up and run into him, throwing her arms around his middle and crying. His arms wrapped around her and pressed her tight against him, rubbing her back slowly.

"It's okay," Gendry whispered soothingly. "Don't worry. She'll be fine. They say she's stable at the moment, but she'll be fine. She'll be fine, Arya."

"I'm getting your shirt wet," she mumbled pathetically against his _muscular_ chest. _Oh god, you sound like one of those crying drunks_.

"Who cares?"

He half-dragged half-carried her to the terminal, where various people were waiting. She briefly saw Jon, head in hands, as well as Edmure and surprisingly enough, Roslin. It was unusual for her uncle to keep a girlfriend for that long. Gendry put her in a seat near her brother, and then sat down next to her, taking her small hand in his large one.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, looking at her with those deep blue eyes.

_What were you doing, ignoring him? He would never have judged you, or done anything, no matter what you said_, she thought, dazed. "I'm fine," she muttered, wiping away the still falling tears. "Just...y'know."

"She should be fine, Arya. It's more...the police think it wasn't an accident."

"Joffrey," she breathed. "Was it him?" she demanded, moving to get up and make a big fuss but Gendry quickly pulled her back down.

"The Freys," he said, his voice low and hushed. "Don't mention it. Roslin."

"Oh..." Arya nodded in understanding, and cursed quietly when she felt more tears rolling down her face.

"Crying doesn't make you weak," Gendry told her, squeezing her hand tightly.

She smiled slightly at him, and when the flight attendant called to tell them all their flight was ready, she walked onto the plane with Gendry, her hand still locked with his. Neither Jon nor Edmure commented on it, yet Roslin seemed to smile almost encouragingly at her. On the plane, she sat next to him, and fell asleep almost instantly, even though the plane hadn't taken off. When Arya woke up, she was lying on Gendry's shoulder, yet he didn't seem to mind at all, and she didn't.

"You look awful," he commented, smiling. "Although...you still manage to _somehow_ look good."

She quickly looked away, hiding the blush on her cheeks. It was true, though, she realised when she opened her phone and put the camera on to face her. Her make up was all smudged, the mascara blurred around her eyes. There were tear stains on her cheeks, and her hair was sticking out everywhere. Not to mention that her rather flimsy dress was sliding down, and she realised with embarrassment that her bra had probably been showing the whole time. Her head was screaming at her, and she wanted nothing more than to run back to that club and forget everything, but she couldn't.

"Is Jon okay?" she whispered. Her brother was on the other side of the plane, and she had a feeling he had arranged that on purpose, as to be away from them all. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be breathing softly.

"He came over before, and just thanked me for calling you and stuff," he told her. "The plane should be landing soon, anyway. You were only asleep for about an hour."

Arya nodded, and turned to look around the plane. There were various people littered about, and she noticed that Roslin had fallen asleep on Edmure's shoulder and he was smiling softly. _Did we look like that_? she wondered briefly.

The plane landed ten minutes later, and Jon seemed to wake up instantly. They all put their seat belts on, and Arya could see everyone impatient to get off, especially her brother. His phone was already out, as the plane had landed, and he seemed to be calling a taxi, even though there would probably be taxis waiting outside the airport. There was no luggage, she realised as they got off. Jon hadn't packed anything, only a small bag, and neither had Gendry or Edmure or Roslin.

Jon led them hastily through the airport, until they got outside. A taxi was waiting there, and they all piled in. Arya stared out the window the whole time, trying not to cry or even think about Catelyn. The fact that her mother had nearly _died_ was too...strange to comprehend. And it all could be because of Joffrey and his threats and Sansa. Not that it was Sansa's _fault_ or anything. It was more that he had warned her, and they hadn't listened.

The hospital in Riverrun wasn't as large as the one in Winterfell, however they all proceeded to get lost as they struggled to find where Catelyn's room was, even after listening to the nurse's instructions. After awhile, Jon finally found the room, and they all fell silent as they stared at the woman lying in the bed. It couldn't be her mother, it couldn't be. Catelyn Stark - or Tully - was a strong, independent and _fierce_ woman. Yet here lay only a shell of that, hooked up to various machines. Beside her bed was her great-uncle, Brynden Tully, who looked sad and old. He nodded at them when they all entered, before ushering Edmure out for a word.

Arya felt Gendry wrap his arm around her shoulders, and she smiled at him gratefully. The room was silent for a moment, as Jon sat on the chair beside the bed and seemed to mutter things under his breath and Roslin stood almost awkwardly in the corner, her arms wrapped around herself. A few minutes later, Brynden and Edmure entered, followed by a rather serious looking doctor. He smiled at all of them kindly.

"She is in no life threatening danger at the moment," he told them all. "However, she is in a coma, as she sustained a serious head injury. We don't know when she'll wake, or if she will...remember much when she does. Naturally, though, we will do our best." The doctor nodded at them all, before exiting. There were a few moments of rather awkward and sad silence, before Brynden grumbled something.

"None of us should stay here moping," he snapped. "Cat wouldn't want that. How about you lot book a hotel? Or you can stay over at my place, plenty of beds."

It was Jon who responded surprisingly. "We'll stay in our old house," he replied smoothly. "Do you know where Bran and Rickon are?"

Brynden nodded. "I sent them back home. They should be there if you're staying with them. However I don't think Edmure will fit, not to mention his little girlfriend."

"That'll be fine," Roslin responded calmly. "I'll book a hotel for us."

Edmure and his girlfriend left first by a taxi, followed by their great uncle, who nodded tightly at all of them. Arya watched them all leave, and she wanted desperately to go back to their house in Riverrun where Bran and Rickon were. She had missed them a lot ever since moving to Winterfell. It would be nice to see them again, even though the circumstances weren't the best.

They caught a taxi back to the house in Riverrun, which was rather large and had quite a few rooms, although there probably weren't going to be enough for all of them. Bran and Rickon were waiting outside, and Arya burst out of the car only to be met by the youngest Stark, who was as usual running around wildly. He threw himself at her, hugging her tightly, and she smiled at him. Bran approached her slowly, and when he reached her he too joined the hug as best as he could, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"I missed both of you," she whispered. "I'm so glad you can walk again, Bran," she added when she saw her brother upright on his two legs. It had been awhile since she had seen him like that, however he had gotten surgery a bit after she had left. After a long hug, she finally released them as Jon and Gendry approached. Both of the boys hugged Jon, and greeted Gendry kindly enough before dragging them all inside. The house was clean, as it usually was, however there was already the sign of mess appearing as Catelyn wasn't there to clean it up.

"There's only one spare room other than mum's...but we don't really want to use that. It has a double bed in it. The other person can easily sleep on a mattress in the lounge or something," Bran told them as Shaggydog and Summer ran around the house.

"That's fine," Jon told them, before smiling at the sight of the dogs running around freely. "You should probably tie them up."

"No way!" Rickon protested instantly. "They hate being tied up! Shaggydog especially."

Her half-brother laughed. "That's fine. Arya, how about you and Gendry take the spare room? I don't mind sleeping on a mattress for a few nights."

She did her best to cover her blush. "No, I'll take the mattress. It'll be fine."

"You're probably going to be the one sleeping the least because of all of this. A mattress won't help it at all," Jon pointed out calmly.

_No, wait, what? Sleeping with Gendry? Doesn't he sleep without a top on_? Her thoughts were a daze and all she could do was nod weakly, avoiding Gendry's gaze.

"Besides, I can't let my little sister sleep on a mattress," her brother teased lightly, clearly trying to lighten up the mood. She smiled slightly at him.

"Well, I think we should all head to bed...it's nearly midnight," Bran said, and then he seemed to look at her for a minute, before adding, "You really should get changed, Arya."

She laughed, although it sounded rather fake. "Yeah...I probably should. I might get something to eat, though...I don't exactly want to go to sleep like this." She trailed off, though it was perfectly true. Arya hated going to bed drunk, before it usually meant she woke up with a massive headache. Usually, she stayed up until it went away a bit and then went to sleep. This way her head wasn't pounding ridiculously.

"I'll stay up with you," Gendry offered. "I don't exactly trust you in the kitchen, either." He punched her shoulder playfully.

She smiled and nodded thankfully at him while watching Bran and Rickon head back to their rooms and Jon to the lounge. Arya led him to the kitchen and watched as he pulled out some ingredients and began cooking. It was weird, watching it, probably because she couldn't cook and it just seemed so...effortless to him.

"Jon didn't say you were this good of a cook when he called me before I went to Winterfell. He said something like 'at least he's better than us'. I thought that indicated that you could cook stir fry and pizza, but not...other things," she told him.

Gendry laughed. "I suppose I got better. It became a hobby, almost, not a chore. My mum taught me how to cook from an early age, saying women loved it when men could cook..." He shrugged. "Who knows if that's true?"

A reply was on the tip of her tongue but she quickly pushed it back. There were many things she wanted to say, however she had no courage to do so. Most of them were along the lines of 'Why didn't you kiss me?'. He'd tell her, though, she knew. Once he was ready.

Arya rested her head on the bench in the kitchen, watching him work methodically. It felt so peaceful compared to everything that had happened. Part of her wondered if it registered in her head that Catelyn had been in a car accident and was in a coma. Not to mention that she might not remember much when she woke. Everyone in the room had worked out that 'might not remember much' meant 'barely remember anything at all'. That was okay, though. As long as Catelyn lived, she didn't care. For the whole night, she had been thinking that she was the worst daughter in the world. When Ned had died, part of Arya instantly wished it was her _mum_ that had died. And if they were both gone?

She didn't want to think about it.

"Should we call Sansa?" Arya asked suddenly. It was obvious that no one had contacted her sister, as she had told them all that she was moving in with the Baratheons again.

"Maybe," Gendry replied. "Tomorrow, maybe. When we're all not so tired and...wearing better clothes." He gave her a pointed look.

She huffed. "It wasn't like I had any time to get changed after someone interrupted my fun very _rudely_."

"You were clubbing, weren't you? I didn't know you were into that stuff...and tight dresses."

Arya rolled her eyes at him. "I'm the epitome of surprise," she informed him sarcastically.

"And what am I? Stupidity?" he retorted.

"Yeah. And bullheadedness."

Gendry blinked at her. "Is that even a word?" he demanded, trying to hide his smile.

"If it isn't it should be."

He sighed dramatically, before pouring the food into a bowl and handing it to her. It was a simple stir fry, with veggies and some beef thrown in. She didn't really care though as she munched it down and periodically drank water, trying to prevent her headache from getting any worse. Gendry sat next to her, eating a bit of the stir fry silently.

_Say something_, she thought desperately. _Ask him, just do it_!

"Gendry..." Arya began, but stopped when his blue eyes flashed towards hers.

"Mmm?" he mumbled, still chewing.

She hesitated for a moment before remembering that she was _Arya Stark_ and there was no way she was going to be intimidated or scared of some guy who had tried to kiss her. "Why did you try and kiss me?" she blurted out and then quickly covered her mouth. _Shit, why did you say that_?

He stared at her for a moment, before suddenly he glared at her. "You don't just ask people that!" he snapped.

"_What_? Excuse me? How _else_ would I find out? Ask bloody Jon?"

"No...but...you just don't really...ask those type of things." He was _blushing_, she realised.

"Well, can't you just answer it?" she demanded. "It's a simple question."

"With a simple answer. Why do you think?" Gendry retorted.

Arya opened her mouth to say something, but stopped. How would she know why he had tried to and then stopped? He couldn't like her, because that was just...no one had really liked her before. Guys just didn't like her...before her dad had died she had been too loud and afterwards she was too quiet. And besides, why would _he_ like her? Surely he had some other girl waiting in King's Landing for him.

"Then why didn't you kiss me? You started to, and then you stopped..." she said quickly, changing the question. "And _don't_ say you weren't going to kiss me...you pretty much just admitted it!"

Gendry rolled his eyes. "I wasn't going to deny it. I just...it didn't feel right," he admitted.

"It didn't _feel_ right? How the fuck does that work?"

"You're five years younger than me and Jon...he would overreact."

Arya felt herself becoming angry. "I never thought you were one to care what other people think!" she yelled. "If it's love, then why should people care? Why should the person care? You're such a stupid idiot!" She got up, knocking the glass of water she was currently drinking to the ground. It shattered into pieces but she stormed off, not caring.

"Arya," Gendry began. "Wait! Stop, okay, seriously!"

She ignored him completely and stormed up the stairs to the bedroom and fell onto the bed which she was going to be sharing with _him_. He was bound to climb up the stairs at any time, so Arya quickly ripped off her stupid dress and looked in the drawers of the room, which had previously belonged to Robb. There was one of his old t-shirts, so she quickly put it on and climbed into bed, not bothering to take off her bra and undies. After a few minutes of lying there motionless, she heard Gendry come up and hover over the bed for a little bit before heading into the bathroom. She heard the shower go on and closed her eyes tightly, willing herself to go to sleep.

* * *

Gendry felt warm, warmer than he'd ever felt before. The bed was awfully comfy, although he had realised that last night - or this morning, as it had been one o'clock when he went to sleep - when he slipped into it, trying to ignore the fact that Arya was next to him. It had been hard and about ten minutes he had been hyper aware of how close they were, and how her breath was tickling his shoulder when he faced away from her. Now, though, he felt great and he could smell something cooking downstairs, which was odd because Jon didn't know how to cook. He didn't care though, so he snuggled deeper into the covers, before finally sighing and opening his eyes.

_Oh shit, if someone walked in..._

His arms were wrapped around Arya as if she was his lover, and she was facing into his chest, one palm on his abdomen. She was curled up against him while his arms were tight around her waist. _How the fuck did that happen_? he thought, dazed, before quickly removing his arms from her as slowly as possible, as not to wake her. Gendry rolled his eyes when he had finally released her, because that had just _had_ to happen. He got out of bed as quickly as he could and then turned around to make sure that Arya was still asleep. Her arms were stretched out, as if she wanted something - or someone, more like it - to hold her again.

He ignored the hot feeling in his chest and hurried downstairs, even though he was wearing nothing but some plain pants and no top. When he reached the kitchen, he saw Bran, the older of the two younger boys, cooking some pancakes while Rickon bounded around the lounge, playing with Shaggydog.

"Good morning, Gendry," Bran greeted warmly.

"G'morning...I didn't know you could cook," he replied, his voice husky from sleep.

"Anyone can cook if they want to."

Gendry grinned. "Tell that to Jon or Arya. They don't seem to get it." He sat down at the bench and stared at Bran for a moment. "I remember Jon briefly telling me that you were in a car accident...that you couldn't walk."

"I couldn't. I had a situation a lot like mums at the moment, except mine was more of a physical problem, as something snapped in my spinal chord. I got surgery a few months ago, though, a bit after Arya left," he explained, flipping the pancakes. "It was tough, but definitely worth it. They implanted some type of metal into my spinal chord to keep it upright and to fill in the crack...I'm not the best with medical knowledge, so I'm not exactly sure what they did."

"It's good, though. Were you in a coma...too? After the car accident? if you don't mind me asking."

"I was for a month. No one thought I'd make it..." Bran trailed off. "I think mum will make it, though."

"I hope she does," Gendry said sincerely.

"You should probably go have a shower if you want...Rickon wants all of the first ones and he eats like a horse. There's enough for everyone, but you should probably have a shower and wake Arya up."

_No way am I waking her up after last night_, he thought immediately, but he nodded and smiled at Bran. "Sure, I'll do that."

He made his way up the stairs slowly, purposely trying to dawdle. It was just...he seriously hoped Arya wouldn't bring it up again because who just suddenly asked those type of questions? Naturally, she would though. Sometimes she had no idea what she was doing.

The bed was surprisingly empty when Gendry entered the room they had been designated to share and he stared at it for a moment. _She's probably in Jon's room or maybe she's gone outside_, he thought finally, heading towards the bathroom and opened the door, ready to take his shower...

...until someone began to scream their head off.

"_Holy fuck_!" Gendry shouted and flung the door closed again, trying to ignore Arya's raging screams on the other side of the door, which vaguely went along the lines of 'you fucking pervert'.

"_What did you think you were doing? Do you know how to knock_?" she screamed on the other side.

He closed his eyes and did his best to undo what he had seen even though it wasn't technically that bad...she had been wearing a towel, after all, but still it had no difference as she had been practically _naked_. The vision still came back, though, even after he squeezed his eyes shut and imagined the worst possible things possible, like Jon and Tormund making out or something...completely stupid, unrealistic and morbidly disgusting. Naturally, it didn't work.

_She was naked under the towel_, a luring voice whispered in his head, but he ignored it and pushed the arousal inside him away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he yelled at the door before hurrying downstairs. Jon was down there with Bran in the kitchen, while Rickon was gobbling down a particularly large stack of pancakes.

"What happened?" Bran asked curiously.

"Nothing," Gendry replied, too quickly. "Just a little misunderstanding."

"Didn't _sound_ like one," Rickon said bluntly.

"You know how Arya is." He laughed nervously. "Always a...spitfire?"

All three of them looked at him, thoroughly unconvinced but he didn't care. That had been even more awkward than most of his experiences with women and in high school there had been quite a few. Most of them had only been for a short time which only made it worse afterwards. Girls weren't exactly his _strong_ point, as he had never had a lasting relationship and didn't know how to read people that well. His mum had often told him that it was a horrendous curse, for not knowing how to deal with girls was a massive set back. Naturally, he hadn't believed that, but now...

She came downstairs, dressed in a way too big pair of jeans and someones old shirt, her hair all damp. As Gendry had expected, she glared furiously at him, though it seemed half hearted.

"I'm starving," Arya announced to them all, although she pointedly ignored him.

"Well _I'm_ eating, not you. Wait your turn!" Rickon told her fiercely with a mouth full of pancakes. "Jon and Gendry still haven't had theirs..."

"How come you have to do this whole you eat as many as you can then the next person does...can't we just take it in turns?" she asked dryly.

"No," Bran and Jon said together instantly.

"_Fine_," Arya snapped, rolling her eyes. "I'll have something else. I'm going to visit mum."

"You shouldn't go alone," Bran told her at once. "Someone should go with you."

"And you two should go to school," Jon pointed out. "I think it'd be good...a distraction."

The younger Starks both rolled their eyes, clearly expressing their opinion.

"I'll go with her," Gendry offered slowly. Arya glared at him. "If you have a car, I can drive..."

"We have Robb's old one here," Bran told him. "You can use that. The car keys are hanging up on that wall over there."

"You don't have to," she told him as they walked outside. "No, you _really_ don't have to."

He rolled his eyes at her stupid immature antics and kept walking. It was obvious she wanted to talk to him about several things and he was just giving her the opportunity? This way it would be easier for both of them not to suddenly started yelling when all the other Starks were around. Yet despite that being his intentions, the drive to the hospital was made in complete silence. Arya slammed the car door shut for good measure when she got out as well, and stormed into the hospital, hands on her hips. Gendry couldn't help but grin as he watched her while following.

The nurse at the front desk frowned at them both when they entered.

"Catelyn Stark is..."

"A very well known person in Riverrun," Arya finished, rolling her eyes. "Yes, we know. I'm her _daughter_, Arya Stark. This is a friend, Gendry Waters."

The nurse still looked dubious, but nodded. "She's been moved to a different room. It's Room 245, a private room on the second floor," she informed them before turning her back on them.

Arya led the way, trying to go as fast as she could and make sure he wouldn't catch up. Naturally, it didn't work. Gendry had much longer legs and he matched her stride easily. They took the stairs two at a time, and when they reached the room Arya hurried in and went to sit down on the chair by her mother's left. He stayed at the door, lingering uneasily. The woman lying in the bed looked so...weak. From what Jon had told him about Catelyn, she was far from that. Arya was holding her mother's hand and whispering things, and he distinctively heard her say his name.

After awhile, Gendry finally entered and sat on the other side of Catelyn, clasping his hands together tightly. She was still muttering things to her mother, occasionally smiling and other times frowning. He had thought that Arya wasn't that close to her mum, yet clearly there was _some_ kind of bond. Sansa seemed more like Catelyn's daughter than Arya.

"Gendry," she suddenly said, looking up at him.

He blinked. "Yeah...?"

"I'm sorry."

He stared at her for a moment. _Did she just apologise? Since when does Arya apologise? Is she...what?_ "Are you okay?" Gendry asked instantly.

Arya scoffed. "I actually try to do something _decent_ for once! I apologised! You're meant to say 'Yeah, I forgive you'. Are you that stupid?" she snapped.

"Well, okay, I forgive you. But anyway, are you...okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied shortly. "Honestly. I'm just...not thinking about, y'know." She seemed to be embarrassed for a moment, before blurting out, "When you're here, it's better though."

Gendry froze, and he noticed she did too. _How the hell am I supposed to respond to that_? He didn't know, really. Lately that was how it was. They were playing some kind of weird - romantic? maybe not - game of cat and mouse. One of them said something that was either stupid or had some kind of implication and then they were off. It was probably because not only did he not know how to deal with...love issues, but he doubted Arya did as well. Just because he had kissed and okay, maybe had sex with a few girls didn't make him experienced with them.

"Thanks?" he said awkwardly and to his surprise, she laughed. It was a rather happy sound, not like the other ones he had once heard from her. A few weeks after they had kind of gotten close, Jon had told him that Arya was a lot happier when he was around.

"I don't know what it is," Jon had said slowly, "but you seem to make her happier." He frowned. "There's nothing going on between you two, is there?"

"_No_!" Gendry replied quickly. "Nothing's going on. I only just met her and besides, I'm nearly six years older than her." Yet now, it didn't seem like a problem. He felt like had known for her more than a few short months. She was a constant now.

"If you say so..." Arya's half-brother had seemed dubious but hadn't questioned it. After awhile, he stopped shooting them weird looks and simply went along with it.

It was good, though, because if Jon _had_ been paying attention he may have noticed that things were...off. Gendry...he liked her, or maybe he didn't. Sometimes he couldn't tell. One day he just loved how careless and moody she was and others...she just went off and stared out the window and argued and wasn't exactly the most pleasant person in the world. _I don't care, though_, Gendry thought.

"Is that all you can say?" Arya asked, grinning. "Thanks?"

"What do you want me to say, then?"

"Who knows?" she muttered, looking back down at Catelyn and smiling. "I told mum about you. She probably wouldn't like you much, though. Anyone who hung out with Jon was always considered bad."

"Yeah...I heard that she wasn't a big Jon fan," he told her.

"Mmm..." Arya hummed slightly. "Are you hungry? You didn't have anything to eat and neither did I, so like, do you want to..."

"Go get something to eat?" he finished, grinning. "Yeah, sure."

He watched her glance back at Catelyn, smiling and whispering something in her ear before turning around and walking out. Gendry followed, hurrying to her side.

"I feel like coffee," she told him.

"Mmm..."

"And some type of croissant."

"Mmm..."

"Is that all you're gonna say?" Arya snapped, yet there was a smile on her face as they entered his car.

He grinned at her. Sometimes, egging her on was one of the only entertaining things that he did everyday. She was easy to taunt and tease, and often shot back something worse which was even more entertaining. _You sound like a lovesick fool, Gendry_.

"We're here," he told her offhandedly when they arrived at some random coffee shop that he had seen down the road.

Arya jumped out of the car and practically ran into the shop, already in the middle of ordering her meal when he entered. She looked excited, but he could see that in her eyes she was just scared and trying to hide her sadness. Gendry decided not to comment on it, though. It was best if he didn't. Some type of argument would probably arise if he did.

Once he ordered his meal, he sat next to Arya on a small table in the corner, where she was flicking idly through the menu. It only took a few minutes before the coffee and croissants arrived, and they both dug in as quickly as possible. By the time he was halfway through his, Arya had already completely finished his. She flashed him a small almost fake grin before fiddling with her hands.

"Are you okay?" Gendry asked once he finished his meal.

She shrugged. "The usual," she replied.

"What does that mean? Is that the 'I'm okay' usual, or the 'I secretly want to burst into tears' usual?"

Arya glared at him. "What's the supposed to mean?" she demanded harshly.

"Nothing," he said calmly. "It's just a question. Are you okay?"

"Not really," she admitted. "I mean...part of me is, but the other part is just waiting for me to be alone and then...break down. I just...I can't get over the fact that Catelyn is like that. She can't not remember anything when she wakes up. It just _doesn't_ work like that."

"Don't be alone, then. Stay with your brothers or me."

"It's not that simple."

He rolled his eyes. "I hear that so much. Half the time it's just an excuse because you're not trying. It's like when people say 'It's a long story' to avoid actually telling it."

"No it isn't," Arya replied hotly. "Maybe it _is_ a long story."

"Half the time it isn't. Anyway, stop going off topic."

"I already told you how I am. That's all there is to it. I just don't want to be alone...that's when it hits. You're kind of all 'happy', I suppose, when people are around you and distracting you but when you're alone...it's like this person in your head has been hiding and then he comes out." She sighed loudly. "That sounded so stupid. Whenever I try to talk about feelings it _always_ sounds stupid. That's why I don't do it."

"It doesn't sound stupid," Gendry told her honestly. "I'm not saying I exactly _understand_, but I know that...it happens to quite a few people. And that most of them aren't alone, no matter what they think."

She seemed to think for a bit. "For a second there, you almost sounded wise. You should be careful."

He grinned at her. "I do try."

"We should get going," Arya said suddenly, interrupting their little teasing argument. "Head back before they start worrying."

"Yeah," Gendry agreed, smiling. "I'll pay."

She didn't argue, which was so typically Arya that he couldn't help but laugh as she went outside to wait for him. Once he payed the nice waitress and hurried out, she was tapping her foot impatiently and rolling her eyes. They drived home, playing loud music and making up stupid lyrics to them that didn't match the song at all. It was fun, and when they arrived outside the Riverrun house they were both grinning. Arya got out, slamming the door as she usually did. She seemed to be waiting for him, which was odd. Usually she'd just run inside and announce her arrival loudly. When he got out and walked up to her, she smiled.

"Don't tell anyone what I told you. It's a secret, okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah, sure..." He trailed off uncertainly, for she was still standing there, looking at him intently.

Gendry didn't know how it happened, but suddenly Arya's arms were _somehow_ around his neck and her lips were on his and they were kissing. Her lips moved almost uncertainly against his, as if she didn't quite know how to. _Oh god, oh god, Gendry you are right outside the house_! He didn't care, though, as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him, pressing her body quite firmly against his. She almost seemed to moan against his lips, before her eyes widened at the sound. Arya stepped back instantly, before laughing almost awkwardly.

"Good night, Gendry," she said, repeating his words from a few nights ago, even though it wasn't even midday. She hurried inside, and he stared numbly after her.

* * *

**A/N: **There you go! I will edit it later, even though I've said this about the last three chapters and I _still_ haven't gotten round to editing them. Also, concerning the amount of vodka Arya drunk...it's really hard for me to kind of...write when someone gets drunk, mainly because there are so many factors that count. Arya's got a small figure, I suppose, but still. Let's just hope it's sort of accurate? Another thing, one song _really_ inspired me to write this chapter...it kind of reminded me of them, on a more modern scale, but anyway. It's Vance Joy - Riptide. If you haven't listened to it...it's a great song.

I know Sansa wasn't in this chapter and it was mostly Arya, but she is in the next chapter. Next chapter is pretty much more on the character's actual futures, as well as...well Gendrya. Also, did anyone see those interviews of Maisie Williams and Joe Dempsie? I'm not saying I exactly ship them but they were...enlightening? I don't know, I just loved watching them together. If you haven't seen them, hit the 'Gendrya' tag on tumblr and I'm sure you'll find it.

Anyway, thanks to everyone who faved, followed and reviewed! I appreciate every single one of them, no matter how small.

I hope you enjoyed and until next time! (Sorry for the pointless ranting!)

-Zamire


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Wow it has _definitely_ been awhile. I am so sorry for how late this is but life just got the better of me. I'd just like to thank everyone who reviewed and faved and followed this story in the last chapter. Your support is _amazing_ and I love it. I'd also like to thank specifically _brahitsemily_ for leaving quite a few reviews in a row...I loved reading them, and everyone elses. Hearing your opinion is amazing and can inspire someone heavily (even though this chapter is like, 6 weeks from the last one). There's also a scene in here which I was extremely unconfident about writing because I just am like that. I'd really like to hear your opinion on it and any thoughts or any constructive criticism.

Also a certain small witty character briefly comes in with his own POV...Hope you enjoy!

**_Also, small warning, there is a bit of mild sexual situations I suppose. The rating may soon go up to M, but to anyone who gets uncomfortable with that sort of stuff, just try and skip the certain bit when it comes._**

* * *

**-The Key to Happiness****-**

**-Chapter 9-**

Sansa knew something was wrong the minute she arrived on the front porch of Jon and Arya's house. Sure, Ghost had still bounded up to her and looked well fed, but she knew that no one was inside. _Oh god_, she thought worriedly. _Joffrey couldn't have made his threats become reality that quickly_. Even so, she couldn't help but wish she still lived with Brienne, for the older woman would know if something serious had happened. _Surely Arya would call, though..._

The whole bus ride home Sansa huddled up in her seat, trying her best not to bite her nails nervously. She wanted to call Jon or Arya, but also wanted to wait. If something was serious, they'd tell her, wouldn't they? Joffrey couldn't have done anything. Once upon a time, Sansa would have gotten on the ground and begged for him to not fulfill his empty threats. That was all they were. There was no need to worry needlessly. Even though she kept muttering the mantra to herself in her hand, she found herself regularly checking her phone, waiting for a new message to pop up.

Sansa walked back to the Baratheon's place in the cold from the bus stop and by the time she reached the door, she felt chilled to the bone. There was an unusual silence in the house when she entered, and she fully expected to be intercepted by the time she reached the top of the stairs but no one stopped her. Once Sansa was safely inside her room, she got her phone out and huddled into a corner of her room, trying to keep warm. _I'll call Arya. She'll most likely answer_. Yet the phone rang a few times before going dead, indicating that her sister's phone was out of battery. When Sansa tried to call Jon, the same thing happened. It annoyed her to no end, because yes, even though there had been a few moments when she had been with Joffrey willingly, she was still a Stark.

A knock on her door startled her out of her angry thoughts, and several seconds later Margaery's head poked through.

"Sansa! You look dreadful. Did you really walk all the way home from the bus stop?" her friend asked, coming in and sitting down next to her in the corner.

_Home. Like hell this is my home_. She plastered a smile on her face. "Yeah...it was fine, though, no need to worry about it, Margaery. Where is everyone, anyway?"

"Joff's out at some kind of meeting for Baratheon Corp. With the Freys and Boltons, I believe. Cersei also went, as well as Tyrion and Jaime. The only person who is here is Loras, Clegane and I," Margaery explained warmly. "Now, aren't you hungry? I'm starved. Maybe there's something in the kitchen. Or maybe we can test if Joff's little dog can cook."

_Don't call him that,_ Sansa thought, but she said something completely different. "Let's just order pizza for us. And Sandor, too."

Her friend nodded curiously. "Well...I suppose so. Was anyone at your little sister's house? I take it there wasn't, if your expression is any indication."

"There was no one there."

"Oh, don't worry! I'm sure their fine. They would have called if anything was extremely serious. Come now, let's order that pizza and get out some movies. We need a girls night in. I'll leave you to have a shower and clean yourself up. Any particular requests for the pizza?"

Sansa shrugged indifferently. "I don't mind," she replied.

Margaery grinned before patting her on the back and whisking out of the room, her long skirt trailing behind her. She watched her friend go, and rolled her eyes. Sansa wished Arya were here, or someone else. A few years ago, she would have adored a friend like Margaery Tyrell, but now the woman just seemed...fake. It was weird, but she could sense the woman's lies. _She's a friend, surely. Margaery wouldn't do anything_.

Sansa slowly made her way towards the bathroom, taking a random top and jeans with her from the drawers. Her shower was quick yet scalding, and she hurriedly shoved on the jeans and the top, making her way into the bedroom only to stop. Sandor Clegane was sitting on her bed, and even though he had showed no intentions of hurting her previously it was still...unnerving.

"Oh," Sansa squeaked. "Hi..."

He looked at her, looking amused though it was hard to tell. "Little bird," he greeted slowly. "Haven't you heard?"

She blinked. "Heard? Heard about what?" Her eyes widened quickly. "Has something happened? Is this about my family?"

Sandor glared at her. "Your family," he spat. "Yes, it is. Clearly your bloody family doesn't like you well enough to call you when something happens."

Sansa clenched her fists furiously. "Don't you dare start," she snapped. "Don't say that. That's rubbish, and you know it. Tell me what happened." It almost sounded like an order, coming from her mouth, and for a moment she didn't even recognise her own voice.

"The little bird comes out of her cage." Clegane's mouth quirked a bit. "Catelyn Stark was in a serious car accident. Or at least that's the word."

She opened her mouth to retort a reply but snapped it shut. _Oh_, was all she could think. _Mum...mum..._

"This isn't what Joffrey's meeting is for, is it?" she asked suddenly, realisation hitting her. "Oh god, what if it is? My mum...I have to go...I need to go to Riverrun where everyone else is." She made a move to hurry past him and out into the hallway but he grabbed her shoulders firmly, stopping her.

"You must be stupid. Did poor old Ned Stark drop you on the ground when you were a child?" When she tried to wrench out of his grip he only held on tighter. "Now listen here, little bird. Going to Riverrun is stupid. It'll only hint to that little blonde shit that you're in contact with your family. You don't want that, do you? And anyway, yes, that bloody meeting could be about your mother, but who cares? What's done is done."

"You...you're right," Sansa admitted, and when Sandor seemed to think she wasn't going to run off he released her shoulders. "Then what do I do?" she asked him. "I need to go to Riverrun. I can't just stay here while my mum could be dying."

He looked at her carefully. "To be frank, little bird, I don't give a rat's ass about your mother. However, I'm not the biggest fan of the Lannisters." Sandor seemed to tense simply by mentioning the name. "

"You gave me that key," she said slowly. "Do you think the basement would have any records?"

"Of what? A letter addressed to some drunken fool asking him to crash his car into Catelyn Stark's?"

Sansa glared at him. "I don't care. As long as it has some proof. That's all we need, right?"

Sandor chuckled darkly. "If that's all you think you need to get Joffrey Baratheon out of action, you're severely mistaken, little bird," he told her gruffly. "Why don't you go and run along and find your silly little friend and watch some movies? Maybe you're just not cut out for the real world."

"Fine then. If you want to be some immature little boy whose still scared of his big scary older brother and fire, then go ahead." She turned her nose up at him, glaring at the same time before waltzing out of the room and not looking back.

* * *

It wasn't like Arya had forgotten the kiss. Mostly it was because of how busy everything had been. She had visited the hospital numerous times during the past few days, mostly to avoid Gendry, though part of her still wanted to sit with Catelyn. Most of the time it was only her, however sometimes Edmure would be there, Roslin by his side. They both would look glum as they stared at the hospital bed, and often Arya heard Roslin being yelled at through a phone. She presumed it was her father.

"Don't blame her," Edmure had said to her once, when there had been an awkward silence in the hospital room. "It isn't her fault."

"I don't...really." Her reply had been awkward and forced, yet her uncle had accepted it and left soon after, to her great relief.

Sometimes, Arya talked to her mum, which was weird. They never talked about _anything _at all, even when Ned had died. Arya had simply withdrawn from everyone, including Catelyn, even though her mum had pestered her to open up. Yet now, she found herself telling her mother everything, all about what she had felt during Ned's death and about how she was feeling _now_, as well as Gendry. He often popped up in their 'conversations'.

"He's weird, mum...like, how do you just...am I being too weird? I kissed him, because I felt wild and I think it was the adrenaline but I _did_ mean it. It's just I dunno what to do. Everything's just going crazy and did you know he was suspected of dad's death? I don't blame him at all, but it's just hard to sometimes grasp the fact that dad had _visited _Gendry before his death and he never even told us! But I do trust him, I really do...it's just...I can't, y'know?"

Sometimes, Arya felt Catelyn's hand twitch against hers, and she would quickly call the nurses in. They would say it was just her body reacting, yet Arya liked to think that her mum was truly _listening_ and it was her way of responding.

"But yeah...I'm worried about Jon. I know you and him aren't best buds, but he looks so sad all the time. I think he thinks it's his fault, which is totally stupid because it isn't. I love him, and even if you don't...maybe when you wake up you can talk to him, which you _will_, and you _will_ remember everything, no matter what those stupid doctors say. I'm kind of sad too, mum...because like, we've never been close, you and I. So now...it's sort of...a wake up call. I do love you, though, I really do..." At this point, she felt tears in her eyes and quickly wiped them away. "But...it's just I find it hard to open up and talk about things."

Another squeeze, another nurse rushed in, more false alarms.

"That's the second time you've called me in," the nurse snapped. "Just because you feel her hand twitch doesn't mean she will wake up."

"Sorry," Arya mumbled, flipping the nurse off when her back was turned and resuming her rant to her mum. "Anyway, do you think...do you think you can forgive Jon? For whatever he's done? He hasn't done anything, I'd just thought I'd let you know. If you count Bran as something, you're stupid. It was a fucking car accident, Jon wasn't even...an _accident_, mum, _accident_." She took a deep breath. "And Sansa...I haven't called her. No one has. It's not that we don't want her to know it's just...she'll most likely want to race over here. Someone will tell her back in Winterfell, right? Maybe Robb or Theon...I dunno. I'm worried about Sansa, too. I don't know if you know...well, you _shouldn't_ know, but I'm researching dad's death. Someone has to. It wasn't a stupid accident, I know it wasn't. And Sansa thinks she can help but she's...I don't want her to get hurt."

For a moment Arya waited for her mum's hand to tighten around hers. Instead, Catelyn Stark's eyes flickered, her mouth parting and mumbling some incoherent words.

"Mum?" she prodded, getting up before remembering the nurses words. "Mum?"

"He...she...I love...Ned..." The words were feverish and mumbled, and suddenly the machine next to the bed began beeping.

"_Mum_!" Arya shouted, shaking her gently.

A doctor suddenly rushed in, his gaze not faltering in the slightest. "Please move out of the way. The brain damage in your mother's brain seems to have gotten worse. The nerves are bleeding." He looked at her, almost pityingly. "Please wait in the lobby." Other doctors rushed in, grabbing the bed and beginning to wheel it out of the room.

"Wait! You can't...what's going on?" Arya asked, hurrying after the doctor yet he gently pushed her back.

"She's going into surgery. Perhaps you should call the others. We will do our best."

_He's so cold and indifferent...doesn't he fucking care?_ she thought angrily, before storming off into the waiting room of the hospital, wiping away the tears threatening to spill out. _I was just talking to her...nothing wrong with that_. She felt angry and sad, and glared at any nurse who attempted to approach her. The waiting room smelt of disinfectant, only reminding Arya of where she was. _It stinks just like it did when dad was in here..._

She got out her phone the instant she felt the bad thoughts coming. Instead of being logical and calling Jon, she found her fingers dialing Gendry's number, despite the fact that she was ignoring him at the moment. Arya wasn't surprised that he answered on the second ring, probably thinking that they would be having some deep and meaningful conversation about why she had kissed him and why she had just run off and why she was ignoring him.

"Arya? Are you actually, finally going to speak to me? Because it's _stupid_ if—"

"Just shut up, stupid." She found herself crying, which was annoying because he could hear and the nurses were staring at her weirdly.

"—we keep on ignoring each other...are you crying?"

"I thought I told you to s-shut up." Arya was sniffling now. _How stupid and desperate I sound. He's probably thinking I'm so stupid and pathetic. I practically forced myself onto him. If I talk to him, he's probably just gonna tell me to fuck off. That's why I've been avoiding him. I'm scared of the truth_, she thought sadly.

"Where are you?" Gendry asked, and she could practically hear his concern through her mobile. "Just tell me where you are and I'll pick you up."

"N-no...it's mum. She's i-in surgery...I just...I d-don't know I was just talking to her!"

"Hey, it's okay. I'll be there soon. Just stay in the waiting room. I'm going to tell Jon, though. We'll both come. Just stay there." His voice was kind and warm and she couldn't help but smile slightly.

"Okay," she whispered into the phone, before mumbling a quick good bye and hanging up. Arya stared at the phone the whole time she waited, wiping any stray tears away every now and then. _If my eyes are red I'll die of shame,_ she thought unhappily.

When Gendry and Jon appeared inside the waiting room, Arya got up instantly and made her way over to him. It was Gendry who met her first though, throwing his arms around her. She easily reciprocated, and she could see Jon watching them, his eyes sad and tired. Arya hugged her brother afterwards, squeezing him and muttering comforting things, trying her best not to cry in front of him. _Be strong for him, don't breakdown, just smile, keep your head up, just smile_.

"Where is she?" Jon whispered to her, before going over to the receptionist before she could respond.

Arya was left alone with Gendry, and she could feel his eyes on her back as she watched Jon leave.

"Are you okay?" She could feel his breath on her neck, which was thoroughly distracting. "Arya...do you want to go outside?"

She didn't respond, instead leading the way out of the waiting room that smelt disgustingly familiar. At the thought of the smell, she could feel herself tearing up once more. They walked in silence until they reached a bench a fair bit away from the entrance to the hospital. Arya sat down and stared at her feet, not wanting to meet his eyes. She felt rather then saw Gendry's hand grasp her chin and gently tilt it up to face him.

"Is Catelyn okay?" he asked, and all of a sudden she was crying again.

"_No!_ She fucking isn't! I was just talking to her, that was all I was doing, and she had squeezed my hand a few times but the nurse didn't think anything of it...and then she started mumbling things and suddenly that fucking machine was beeping and I just..." Arya stopped, shuddering slightly. "I just...I didn't mean to, y'know?"

"It isn't your fault," Gendry told her softly. "You were just talking to her. That wasn't what made whatever happened happen. Did the doctor tell you anything?"

"He was such a fucking heartless bastard!" Arya shouted, standing up, however he gently pulled her back down beside him. "He said something about...i-internal bleeding...does it even matter? Either way she could _die_! They said she was stable and they _lied_."

"No...they didn't. Sometimes things happen. Stop blaming yourself, Arya...none of this is your fault. You're beginning to sound like Jon." She felt his arms wrap around her, and suddenly she was crying into his shoulder as he patted her back rather awkwardly. "Are you still going to ignore me?" he whispered in her ear.

Arya blinked away the tears and smiled slightly into his shoulder. "Yes. You're stupid."

Gendry pulled her away and held her at arms length. "Me? Stupid? You're the one who _kissed_ me," he said.

"Well...I didn't mean to...no, wait, I did. I just...you kissed me first!"

"I know. I wanted to. It wasn't a mistake." His voice was soft, and Arya wanted so badly just to lean in and close the space between them and forget about her worries.

_You always do this, though,_ she told herself. _You always try and avoid actually fixing things and talking about them. You can't just make out with him and expect it all to go away_.

"But...maybe you were drunk," Arya replied weakly. "At least, that's what I think."

He laughed. "You think I was _drunk_? I wasn't. You call me the stupid one but just look at yourself."

She shoved him away and proceeded to continuously hit his shoulder. "I'm not stupid!" she snapped. "You're the one who always says dumb things!"

Gendry grabbed her arm, but Arya pushed him away and got off the park bench, running around it. She found herself smiling, and when she turned back to see him chasing after her she saw a smile on his face too. The tears on her face were beginning to dry as she ran around the bench, avoiding his arms trying to grab her.

_This is just like the first time_, she thought, shocked. She could remember that night so well, remembered laughing as Gendry chased her around the couch. Arya was so distracted by her thoughts that she stopped running, causing Gendry to scoop her up easily into his arms.

"Hey!" she shouted, wriggling around while laughing.

He grinned at her, placing her carefully on the ground and drawing her close.

"Hey..." Arya said, more weakly this time as she felt his face draw close to her. "What are you doing, idiot?"

Gendry's mouth was on hers, and she didn't even bother to think as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing him closer to her. He didn't taste like anything, which was weird because in the movies Sansa had forced her to watch the girls in it always said the boys tasted like something. It didn't matter to her, she realised. Even if he smelt of cigarette smoke, she doubted she'd care. When it came to Gendry all reason was thrown out of the window. She would never have wrapped her arms easily around a man's neck, or responded to a kiss so vigorously.

When she felt his tongue pushing gently on her lips, she opened them without thinking. She felt his arms wrap around her body, pushing her closer towards him, and it all seemed so peaceful and brilliant and like those movies until Arya remembered that this was _Gendry_, and her mum was in a serious operation and that he was five years older than her. Gendry seemed to notice that she stopped responding, for he let go, staring at her with such an intensity that she looked away.

"What was that for?" Arya muttered under her breath, feeling all tingly and hot.

"What do you think?" Gendry replied easily, staring at her. "Are you alright? Didn't you...?"

"I just...you're older than me, you're...my mum could be dying. It just...it feels weird."

"It doesn't feel right?"

"_No_!" She was surprised by the intensity in her own voice. "No, that's wrong. It feels good, it feels...right. It feels brilliant, okay, and I really...I just...no but...I'm a weird person. I don't know how you'd want me..."

"Is the the great Arya Stark admitting to not being good enough for 'stupid' Gendry Waters?" He was taunting her, and she felt herself smile.

"Maybe," she admitted slowly. "I just...I feel weird."

"You don't want to do it again?"

_Oh god, what happened to the perfect moment of a kiss? They never mention the conversation afterwards_, she thought angrily. "Of course I want to do it again, you idiot! You're just...you're Gendry and I'm...me."

"That's the most pathetic thing I've heard come out of your mouth," he said. "Do you—"

"Can we _not_ have this conversation?" Arya interrupted quickly. "Let's just say I liked it, okay no, I loved it, I want to do it again and now let's go inside and act normal...please?"

"You are the worst when it comes to facing your own emotions."

"I know. But I just...I don't know how to go about this and I've never done this sort of thing before...I'm pretty shit at all this romantic stuff and I mean...yeah," she said, rambling slightly.

"I don't care," Gendry told her. "You...I really like you, Arya. You can be happy even if bad things are happening around you. It's okay to do that. If you don't want to do anything official, I don't care. But just...don't ignore it. Don't pretend like nothing between us doesn't exist because it _does_ and you know it."

"Okay, okay!" Arya stared at him, trying to breathe evenly. _I feel like such a stupid person. Could this be any more awkward_? "I...I won't ignore you, or anything between us. Just...let's talk about this another time."

He smiled at her, and she couldn't help but smile back. She could barely feel the tears on her face now, and even though she knew she would have to face everything once she entered the hospital, everything still felt okay, if a bit awkward.

"Can I kiss you again?" Gendry asked suddenly. "Or is that...?"

"Just shut up and kiss me, idiot," Arya said, ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his.

* * *

Something was different about Arya and Gendry. Jon could tell. It was the way they acted around each other, almost as if they had gotten closer in a more romantic sense but...hadn't. Occasionally, they would shoot looks at each other that hinted at everything. Other times, they would be arguing, though it seemed more flirty than serious. _I'm beginning to wish Arya never came to Winterfell_, he thought grumpily as he ate his cereal, watching his roommates taunt each other as they too ate breakfast. There hadn't been much news of Catelyn in the past few days since the surgery. Bran and Rickon had continued going to school, to both of their displeasure.

He still felt awful after the surgery. According to them, it had gone 'okay', whatever that meant. Catelyn wasn't aloud any visitors, though, which upset everyone greatly. Edmure had called various times, as had Robb and Theon. Not Sansa, though, even though she knew the number to their house in Riverrun.

Jon ached for company. Even though he had Gendry and could undoubtedly talk to him at any time, his roommate was too busy in matters that probably concerned Arya. He did his best to pretend he didn't care, that his little sister was old enough to take care of herself. Either way, it was the overprotective brother streak that caused him to call Gendry back over after he had finished his breakfast and Arya had disappeared somewhere.

"What's up?" his roommate asked, taking a seat on the couch.

Jon examined Gendry's face carefully. "Is something going on between you and Arya? I've just...been noticing something different about you two ever since Catelyn went into surgery," he said carefully.

"No..." It was clear that his friend was lying, for his face portrayed everything. "Honestly, Jon, nothing you need to worry about is going on."

"I've seen the way you look at her," Jon went on, ignoring him, "and the way she looks at you, as well."

"Really, there's _nothing_ going on."

"Just don't...make her feel like shit," he finished, sighing loudly. "Look...as much as I'd like to get all angry and forbid you from ever stepping in a five mile radius of Arya, I won't."

"Since when have I made her feel like shit?" Gendry finally replied stubbornly.

_Never_, he thought. _If anything, you've made her feel better. She doesn't look like a twig anymore and her eyes look brighter_. He didn't say any of this, though, and instead shrugged. "Look, just...I don't care what's going on between you two. I just thought I'd tell you that."

"Honestly, Jon, you worry too much. There's nothing to worry about," his friend told him, smiling slightly.

_Do I?_ he thought warily as he watched his roommate leave. Maybe he did, but he couldn't help it. Catelyn was in hospital, and part of him just felt like it was _his_ fault, even though he had absolutely nothing to do with it.

"She isn't fond of you," Jon remembered Ned Stark telling him one day. "She wants you to think that everything's your fault."

"What if it is?"

He remembered his supposed father shaking his head sadly. "It isn't, Jon, I can assure you."

It was scary to think that Ned Stark had been dead for nearly eighteen months. Jon could still clearly remember conversations with the man. He remembered the day he got the news, and remembered the looks of everyone in the hospital. Catelyn had glared at him viciously, as if it _was_ his fault, while Arya had just looked so hollow and dead. Sansa had been absent, and Jon knew that everything had fallen apart in that moment. Yet it was slowly piecing itself back together again. When he had gotten the reluctant call from Catelyn asking if Arya could stay with him, he agreed instantly. He could still hear her voice, piercing and cold.

"I want Arya to live with you," she had said coldly through the phone. "There's...no one else."

"Of course," Jon agreed readily. "I'd gladly take her in. I leave with someone else, but he'd gladly accept her." After he had said that, he expected her to hang up, but she whispered something else, almost too quiet to hear.

"I don't blame you for his death."

He still didn't know if he had imagined her saying that or not. Either way, Jon hadn't seen or heard from Catelyn since that. It was hard to think that those words could be his last ones to her, though she was supposedly going to live. _With or without her memories? That's the real question_, he thought unhappily as he lay on the couch, musing over his thoughts. _They said that there's an extremely unlikely chance that she'll be the same after the surgery._

Jon remained like that for the rest of the day, not even bothering to check his phone. It was most likely out of battery, as was Arya's, and neither had brought their charger. He would most likely be yelled at by his band mates, and not to mention Ygritte. _Oh damn that stupid woman_, he thought. He knew he had feelings for her, heavy feelings. It was impossible, though.

"Are you going to sit there moping all day?" he heard a voice ask, and when Jon looked up Arya was standing by the couch, hands on her hips.

"Maybe," he muttered.

"Why?" she demanded. "Because of Catelyn? She doesn't blame you at _all_. In fact, no one blames you."

He rolled her eyes. "I'm not meant to talk about my problems to my little sister," he reminded her absently. "And Gendry told me you were blaming yourself for Catelyn going into surgery, so don't be all like that on me."

Arya glared at him. "Well, I'm not your sister," she snapped. "I'm your _half_ sister. Surely that makes a difference? And I know it's not my fault..."

"No, it doesn't. Now are you and Gendry just going to stop playing around with each other and do something or what?" He hadn't meant to blurt that out, but it seemed he was losing control of what he could say.

She seemed to stare at him for a moment before plonking herself down beside him. "What do you do when you've made a move against this girl you like and then you just want to ignore her because you don't know what to do and you feel like you're a useless piece of shit and suck at everything remotely romantic? And then afterwards you kind of make out and you have this really awkward conversation that ends in nothing really but you still kinda kiss sometimes and there's sexual tension and...yeah."

"Wait...you like a girl?" he asked, momentarily confused before he saw her glare. "_Oh_. Right...well...I dunno. I've never really come across that situation before." Jon thought for a moment, before adding, "and you're not a useless piece of shit."

Arya sighed loudly, and leaned on his shoulder. "Maybe," she muttered. "Just imagine you're in that scenario."

"Well...I supposed I'd do something. If I really do have feelings for this person, then I'd just officially sort it out, instead of just...kissing and not talking about it. You should talk about it with Gendry."

"Who says it's Gendry?" She rolled her eyes.

_Why am I talking about this with my sister? What am I even supposed to say? _he thought. It was common sense to not talk about relationships with your older brother, yet here Arya was, blurting out all her worries and things and even worse, it was about his _roommate_.

"Shouldn't you talk to someone else about this?" he asked, ignoring her previous question.

"_Who_ else? Bran?"

"Well...maybe not. Look, Arya, I don't feel comfortable talking about...Gendry in _that_ way in front of you and..." Jon stopped when he saw his sister's face. "_What_?"

Arya grinned at him. "Just you. Look, I won't say anything more...but...I hope you're okay, Jon. Mum...part of her probably does love you, I think. It's not like she can blame you for all this. Didn't Gendry say it was the Frey's fault?"

"Yeah, I know. I don't feel like it's my fault but I still...doesn't matter. What about you? Everything okay with you?"

"If I don't think about it too much, it's okay I suppose. Besides, I'm just glad my hangover's gone and I've gotten out of that hideous dress."

"All because of Gendry," Jon couldn't help but say. He grinned as she attacked him viciously, and he hugged her. "You've got a way of cheering people up when you're happy, but also making them feel like shit when _you're_ feeling like shit."

Arya glared at him, but there was a smile on her lips. "Gee, thanks."

* * *

They returned back to Winterfell after a week of no news from the surgery. The doctors claimed that there were no updates and that they would call, and after awhile Jon grew sick of waiting and they all went back. Gendry was sort of glad, mostly because the Starks didn't seem to deal with emotions that well. The house in Riverrun had been filled with gloom and doom. Even if in Winterfell it was still slightly the same he was glad to be back in university where he was distracted. Even though Arya seemed to want to go back to Riverrun she threw herself into university, eagerly lapping everything up.

Gendry was still unsure where their relationship was. When people were around they teased and argued and bickered like normal, yet when there was no one around...Arya would sometimes lean up and kiss him on the lips or he would hug her and not in a friendly way. Yet neither of them particularly talked about it and it became an unspoken rule to never show their 'relationship' or whatever it was called around Jon or any of her family. Even Sansa, who had visited a day after they arrived and frantically panicked about them, revealing that Joffrey may have played a part in Catelyn's car accident.

"Joffrey?" Arya had snapped, her gaze furious. "I knew it. That little shit..."

"Please don't do anything," Sansa pleaded. "Sandor...you know, Joffrey's bodyguard...he's been helping me. I'm not sure why but I'm really glad. You keep investigating with Gendry and _don't_ let Jon know. He'll let Robb and Theon know and then everything will be out of control."

"Fine...I suppose I can do that."

The following day after Sansa had visited, Arya went straight to Beric and he wasn't aloud to come. She had returned looking normal, her face neither sad nor happy. Whenever he asked her about it - which was regularly - she would always frown and shake her head. Not that Gendry cared. It had been nearly a week since her visit to Beric and if she wasn't going to tell him anything...well, he could deal with it on his own. Part of him wanted to go to the investigator himself and ask if there was anything he could do. He didn't, though, for her.

All the days in the week had blended into each other, him going to university and studying. He was nearly finishing up his engineering course which meant he would have to actually look for a career soon. Selmy Barristan was already suggesting people for apprenticeships and some part of Gendry prayed he would get one. Of course, it was extremely unlikely as he had told his professor he had hated what he was doing, that he was loathing engineering. Even so, he still found himself checking his email everyday, waiting for _something_.

It was two weeks after they had left Riverrun when Gendry finally saw an email pop up in his inbox. It was from someone called 'Tobho Mott' who Gendry had never heard of. His eyes lit up as he saw the subject of the email and he eagerly clicked on it.

_To Gendry Waters,_

_Prof. Barristan has informed me that you have much talent in engineering and I was wondering if I could offer you an apprenticeship. There is much praise about your work and my shop is one of the highest qualities. We fix many things, whether it be cars or televisions or other things. It is a great honour to receive such an apprenticeship from such a high establishment._

Gendry stopped reading, his eyes amused at how the Tobho Mott lay it on thick.

_Unfortunately, however, my shop is located in King's Landing. I can indeed over you a place to stay in which I will cover the rent for the first month until you settle in, however after that you will be on your own. You will be payed well and under the watchful and expert eye of myself. I can guarantee you will learn a lot, which would then help you establish your own business later on if that is your intentions._

_Please do reply soon, as Prof. Barristan has sent in other names however yours was top on the list. Do consider._

_Tobho Mott, Professional Engineer_

He stared at the email, willing it to disappear for a moment. It was...he couldn't leave. What would he say to Arya? What would he say to Jon? Gendry loved it here in Winterfell, he loved everyone here and most importantly...Winterfell was where Arya was, and as much as he wanted to deny that she was the main reason...he knew she was. He was falling in love with her, slowly but surely. Some days he couldn't believe how much he wanted her, how he wanted to wake up and she was in his arms.

Gendry started when he heard a knock on his door and quickly closed his email. Arya's head peeked into the door, a small smile on her lips. To his surprise, she had taken Catelyn's accident rather well, tolerating it and instead focusing on uni and other things. She often met up with Sansa about unknown things, though he wasn't going to ask her about what.

"I...hey," she said, approaching him and sitting on his bed, putting her head on his shoulder. "Jon's gone..."

He smiled slightly at her yet knew it didn't reach his eyes as he took hold of her hand.

"What's wrong?" Arya whispered, her breath hot against his neck. He found he couldn't concentrate properly. "Is everything okay?"

Gendry stared at her, admiring the way her hair was short and layered and messy, admiring the way her stormy eyes shown with something other than happiness, something he was feeling too. He found himself forgetting about the email as he grabbed her hand and tugged her on top of him, his back falling onto the bed. Arya stared at him, her eyes gazing intensely until she leaned in and kissed him passionately. He responded, wrapping his arms around her neck and pressing her body to him. She wriggled slightly, creating friction and for a moment he had to stop to breathe properly.

Her lips trailed down to his jawline, kissing it gently and for a moment he was shocked by her boldness. He couldn't smell any alcohol on her breath and that made it all...more real. Gendry smiled before flipping her, pressing her to the bed as gently as possible and trailing soft kisses down her neck until he reached her collar bone. He bit down slightly and Arya squirmed beneath him, grabbing his hair and weaving her fingers through it. His hands moved to the side of her hips, gently grabbing them and moving back to her lips. She opened her mouth eagerly to him and for a moment he felt himself getting lost in the feeling of her lips against his, her tongue in his mouth and her hands through his hair.

"We should stop," Gendry finally managed to gasp out, his breath growing heavy as his arousal grew. "We...can't..."

Arya stared at him. "No...I...just keep going for a minute...I just..." She suddenly lifted up his shirt slightly and began to feel the muscles between his chest and he moaned slightly at the feel of her hands on his body. "Let me go on top," she whispered huskily and he easily flipped her on top of him. Arya straddled him easily, her hips connecting with his. She rolled her hips slightly and Gendry let out a big moan as he felt her rub against his arousal. He reached a hand up to cup her breast which caused her to freeze suddenly, staring at him. He quickly let his hands trail back to his sides, but she grabbed the hand and brought it back up.

"No...keep going." Her voice was low and sent shivers down his spine.

Gendry kept going, his hands brushing over her covered breast and gently pressing against her nipple and rubbing in a circle slightly. She moaned and stopped what she was doing to lean against his chest, kissing him passionately again. Arya suddenly sat up and pulled her top over her head, leaving her in nothing but a bra. He couldn't help himself from staring. His eyed the plain black bra and her rather small breasts but never before had the sight of a girl in a bra and shorts aroused him so much.

"You're beautiful," he breathed against her neck, about to take off his shirt when he froze suddenly.

"_Arya! Gendry_!" someone shouted up the stairs and he instantly recognised the voice of Robb.

"Shit, shit, shit," Arya muttered under her breath, quickly getting off him.

Gendry took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he watched Arya struggle to get her top on. _Shit, shit, what have you done_? he thought angrily. He could feel his arousal rapidly fading from his anger yet even looking at her...he closed his eyes quickly. When he opened them next Robb was by his door and Arya was gone from his room.

"You alright, man?" Robb asked, grinning. "Theon and I decided to come over. Lighten this place up a bit for dinner."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be done in a sec," he replied, quickly getting up and throwing his t-shirt over his head. When he went to the hallway Arya was leaning against the wall, smiling at him as she grabbed his hand quickly.

"I...I really...I want to...do that again." It took him a minute to realise she was blushing as she said it. "I mean...you're...I really like you, Gendry."

_Tell her_, a voice in his head whispered. _Tell her about the apprenticeship. You know you're going to accept you dickhead._

"I..." Gendry stopped, his eyes staring at hers.

"I want to be with you," Arya finally muttered, her gaze turned to her feet. "Like...legit. Like really. Officially. Y'know. We don't need to tell the others."

"No," he agreed, ignoring his thoughts. "I...want to be with you too, Arya Stark."

She grinned at him suddenly, before throwing her arms around him and giving him a quick hug.

"You won't regret it...at least, I hope so," she told him.

* * *

If there was one thing Tyrion Lannister hated the most, it was family dinners. Except it didn't contain the usual family. The only people who were there was himself, his delightful sister, his brother and his father. Not even Joffrey attended, which quite frankly was the only good thing about the get together. He always felt the urge to call someone and tell them exactly what he heard at the dinners, most likely Arya though that would probably be creepy.

_I don't give a fuck_, he thought dryly as he attempted to seat himself at the table. Cersei shot him her usual glare which he easily ignored. _I should tell Arya...if it's anything about her family_.

"Finally," Cersei snapped, rolling her eyes exasperatedly. "You were late."

Tyrion shrugged. "Sweet sister, it was only by a few minutes. Surely you can forgiven a poor stunted man like me?"

Jaime flashed him a small smile, which he returned. Everyone in their family could see the obvious change in Jaime ever since he had met Brienne. It infuriated bother his sister and father yet personally he was rather happy for his brother. _About time Jaime got over the thing between our sister's legs._

"Enough," Tywin said coldly. "Now, I'm not sure if any of you are aware of the situation regarding the Starks."

Cersei seemed to smirk as she looked at him, her eyes cool. "Tyrion doesn't know, father," she said.

"No, I don't, and I think I rather wouldn't," he replied calmly, leaning back in his chair. "Can't we just get over this whole Stark shenanigan?"

"I agree, father," Jaime admitted. "This is pointless. Arya Stark and Jon Snow aren't going to do much about their father's will. Sure, Arya is investigating even though you tried to put an end to her..." His voice trailed off, clearly displaying his feelings. "She won't pursue her father's will."

"She already has!" his sister snapped, standing up angrily. "She and that silly bastard boy...we all know where _he_ came from."

"Are you still going on about that?" Tyrion asked rudely. "Yes, we all know your beloved husband fucked more women than anyone else in King's Landing. Though according to our father, you seemed to have figured out a way to get rid of him."

Cersei smiled smugly. "I did a bit of background research. It seems Arya Stark is close to that bastard boy. I blackmailed his professor at uni, Selmy Barristan, to offer him an apprenticeship in King's Landing. It was easy to blackmail the owner of the engineering place as well. He will accept, there is no doubt, and poor little Arya Stark will be so driven with grief she won't even think about us."

"You do take joy in ruining people's lives."

His sister opened her mouth to say something else but Tywin swiftly cut her off. "Enough, both of you. Cersei is right. Gendry Waters will be eliminated from the picture. We also have Sansa Stark and if it need be we can easily threaten her and get her to completely cut off ties with family. I do believe she also seems to be doing a bit of...investigating in your own home."

"I'll get Margaery to distract her," Cersei said immediately. "We have the Tyrells on our side."

Tyrion glanced at Jaime who was staring right back at him. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"This is ridiculous. What are you trying to protect? Your honour? Your dignity? Have you not noticed that people think the Lannisters are worse than dirt?" Tyrion snapped, getting up from his seat. "I'm leaving. Feel free to fuck up other people's lives in my absence."

He slammed the door shut behind him and pressed his ear to the door for a minute. Jaime was saying something, shouting almost, and Tyrion sighed. _I pray that Arya Stark doesn't ever continue to find out the secret of the Lannisters_, he thought dryly.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, hope you enjoyed that chapter. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed and faved yet again. I really appreciate it! Feel free to give some feedback about this chapter because I'm not very...I don't know I've never really written a full on story like this before so...yeah. The rating may go up to M next chapter...yeah.

Thanks again! I love your support!

-Zamire


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **I don't like this chapter much... Oh well, hope you enjoy and sorry for any mistakes!

* * *

**-The Key to Happiness-  
**

**-Chapter 10-**

_To Tobho Mott,  
_

_I would just like to thank you for your offer and also to say that I accept. I was wondering when I would be starting, though. How soon would it be? Please send more details soon._

_Many thanks,_

_Gendry Waters_

He read over his short reply for about the fifth time, yet again wondering if he should add anything else to it. It had everything he needed in it, didn't it? Still, it had hurt to type out the email and even worse, Arya had been in his bedroom while he did it. Even though she had been simply sketching some designs on his bed, Gendry still felt horrible about it. He had left the email sitting in his inbox for a week before finally replying. That week had been one of the best of his life, if he excluded all the thoughts about the stupid apprenticeship offer.

Gendry rubbed his face tiredly, already feeling exhausted. When he had questioned Barristan Selmy about it, his professor had been obviously sheepish about the whole thing, which he found odd. Why would his professor not want him to go? Either way, he was going and nothing could change that. He knew that if his mother were alive she would tell him to go with what his heart said, as corny and stupid as it sounded. _But my bloody heart chooses Arya__,_ he thought angrily. The right decision was to accept the apprenticeship. It would open up many things for his future and even if Arya would be angry at the start, maybe just _maybe_ they would have a chance later on. _I doubt it, knowing her._

He vaguely heard a knock on his door but decided to ignore it. If it was Arya she would have already walked into the room, grinning at him. Yet the knocking continued and Gendry sighed heavily.

"Yeah?" he asked, getting up and opening the door. He was surprised to see Jon standing there, looking sheepish.

"Oh...hey." Jon smiled, fists clenching slightly. "Could I...y'know, come in?"

Gendry stared at his roommate for a moment, stunned. Never in his life had seen Jon Snow so nervous before. His roommate was clenching his fists and looking apprehensively at the door once he was inside Gendry's room. Even when they both sat down on the bed and Gendry closed his laptop so Jon wouldn't see the daunting email, his roommate was still fidgeting.

"You look nervous," Gendry commented offhandedly, smiling slightly to try and break the ice.

"Well...yeah. I mean, I just wanted to talk to you about something," Jon told him. "This is kinda awkward though."

He knew what it was before his roommate opened his mouth to finish what he was saying. _Oh shit,_ was all Gendry could think.

"Is something going on between you and Arya?"

How could he ever explain to Jon? Wouldn't he hate him? _Of course he'd hate me. It's his sister. Don't all brothers get like that?_ he thought angrily. Gendry was annoyed because he just wanted things to be _normal_. He didn't want to worry about his bloody future and what people cared about concerning him and Arya. _He _didn't really give a shit that he was five years older than her and neither did she. So why should others? Yet Jon wouldn't understand. They would probably fight and Gendry would be kicked out and everything would just go to dust.

"That's a bit...what makes you think that?" Gendry asked, trying to delay his answer. _Think, think, think! Do I lie?_

Jon shot him a look, clearly losing his nerves. "Well, for one you two eye each other all the time. Clearly you both are attracted to each other and...Arya has said a few things lately that make me think that something more is going on between you and her. Plus, Theon swore he saw her with a hickey one time."

Of _course_ Theon would say something like that, even if it was vaguely true. Sometimes he found himself getting a little carried away when it came to Arya. Gendry found he just lost all sense of control around her and just...he loved kissing her. He loved doing _more_ than that and he knew he would do more but...it probably wouldn't happen soon.

"Well...what do you want me to say?" Gendry could hear his voice and it sounded nervous as hell. _Jon probably already knows the answer. He just...wants me to confirm it._

"The truth," Jon said firmly. "I want to know the truth. I...I think I'd be able to handle it...I suppose." The nerves were clearly back. "I don't know about Robb but...just tell me the truth."

_I can't,_ Gendry thought angrily. _Arya made me promise not to. I can't._ It had been the first thing they had spoken about the same night they had first started making out.

"You can't tell Jon," Arya had insisted. "He will freak out. He'll just be an idiot and..._please_, Gendry." She looked at him, her stormy grey eyes pleading.

"I...it's the right thing to do, though. To tell him. We can't just hide this forever. You should tell him, though. Not me," he replied.

For a moment Arya had almost looked angry but her face quickly became blank. "Okay...so don't tell him. If I decide to tell him I'll do it. Just...not now. I need some time. Just to collect everything together, y'know."

It seemed Arya had been doing little of that for most of the time they were always near each other, always talking. Whenever Gendry brought up the whole Ned Stark Investigation or whatever she would often wave it off as if it weren't important. He didn't want him to get in the way of her finding the truth. Their relationship...he didn't want it to work like that.

"Nothing's going on," Gendry lied easily. "Honestly. I'd tell you if something was."

Jon sighed heavily and it was clearly obvious that he didn't believe the stupid lie. "If you say so." Jon stood up and left without another word, however when he reached the door and looked back his eyes were filled with disappointment.

_I can't help it,_ Gendry thought stubbornly. _I can't, really. _He knew he was lying to both Arya_ and_ Jon, both about different things. It wasn't good for them or for him. Yet he had to because he was partially hoping that everyone would work out in the end. _It never does, though. Haven't you learnt that yet, idiot? _

Gendry glared at the laptop furiously before flipping it back open and staring angrily at the email. Part of him wanted to retype it all and tell bloody Tobho Mott that he would _not_ accept the apprenticeship and that he would be staying in Winterfell, with Arya. Yet he couldn't. Instead of deleting all of the message, he clicked send and slammed the laptop shut, lying back on his bed.

* * *

For possible the first time in his whole entire life, Tyrion Lannister arrived at his classroom early. Usually he would delay it as much as possible as he found most of his students barely tolerable. The exception was probably Arya Stark, simply because she had very little to say and when she did happen to say something it was actually intelligent. _And these idiots are learning mythology,_ he thought moodily. Either way, it wasn't _his_ choice who he got in his class. If he could choose there would only be around two students, which was perfectly fine with him. Not only did he loathe the marking of any assignments but he also partially hated the subject.

Tyrion couldn't help but hate the subject more as he watched some of the more idiotic students file into the room, some saying various kinds of greetings to him. Personally he didn't care if the class didn't address him respectfully. He had always seen respect as something to be earned contrary to what his sister thought.

"You are hardly as clever as you think you are," Cersei had told him one time which had caused him to laugh.

_She knows little,_ he thought. _She thinks she's smart as everything. She demands to be treated equally to us, like a man, but then proceeds to prance around in short skirts. _Not that there was anything wrong with that. Tyrion certainly didn't mind when other women did such a thing but his sister...

"Good afternoon, Professor," one of his students, Edric Dayne, greeted him politely.

"Afternoon Ned," Tyrion replied, nodding. Fortunately Ned seemed to have more sense than the others and was often lingering around Arya. It was clear that the idiotic boy had a crush on her. He clearly didn't know about Gendry Waters. _And unfortunately I do._

As usual Arya Stark arrived about a minute before the class actually started. She arrived in a huff and smiled slightly at him before finding her way up the stairs and sitting next to Edric. It was clear that she was happy compared to how she had acted when she first arrived. Tyrion could still remember her slightly hollowed cheeks and the way her eyes had been empty. Sometimes it was hard to believe that she was the same person. _It's all because of that Gendry bloke and you're family is going to fuck her up even more by taking him away from her_, he thought. Tyrion sighed heavily before standing up, ready to start the class.

"Welcome to yet another tedious and quite possibly boring lecture. If you haven't taken notes from the last ones then you are officially an idiot. If you want to pass the exams coming up...well, I _severely_ suggest you do. Today we are going to talk more about...religion. That's right, religion. Certain religions are always different from the others and could be considered myths...most people in fact consider the many Viking Gods are myths..."

Tyrion soon lost track of time as his voice retold various collection of things to the class. He watched as most took notes and a few simply listened or didn't even bother pretending to listen. Sometimes he wondered how he did it, just standing up in front of people and talking for a long time. _You love the sound of your voice. Isn't that what father always used to say? _Finally, he closed his mouth, officially finishing the lecture.

"And that concludes everything. Go over your notes if you wish however we will go over everything more thoroughly during a class some time. You are all dismissed," Tyrion told them, turning his back to the students and going to sit down in his chair. Some time during the lecture he had made the foolish mistake of standing up and talking. It would have looked awkward if he had suddenly sat back down. Now, however, he was beginning to wish he had, dignity be damned, for his legs were aching as he watched the students file out of the room, some talking avidly to each other.

He watched Arya Stark leave with Edric and felt the compelling urge to call out to her. _Check Gendry's email,_ he could imagine himself telling her. _Stop him from what he is about to do._ Yet Tyrion couldn't. Some part of his morphed body loved his family though in his head his 'family' consisted of only Jaime and him. Not even Lancel, an impudent prat who had done more good than harm didn't make it into his list. It was going to be painful when he arrived back home, where Tywin and Cersei and Jaime would be. _They're going to question me, obviously. Except Jaime. He won't._

Tyrion took his time packing all his books up and catching the bus back to the house. He took his time climbing the short porch steps and he continued to dawdle when he reached the hallway. Almost instantly he heard his silly nephew's immature voice.

"Uncle's home!" the ugly little snot shouted out to anyone who would listen.

Since absolutely _no one_ listened to Joffrey - not even Cersei anymore - it was only him and Margaery Tyrell who came tottering out, the Tyrell girl smiling prettily for anyone, even him.

"Where's your mother?" Tyrion asked before his nephew could open his mouth. "I need to speak to her instantly."

Joffrey glared at him. "I don't need to take orders from _you,_" he snapped, raising his chin defiantly. "Anyhow, it isn't you who wants to speak to her, it's _her_ who wants to speak to you. She's waiting in the upstairs lounge. I hope you can manage those stairs, Uncle, or are they a bit too high for you?"

Margaery looked almost embarrassed however she hid it well. "Good evening, Tyrion," she greeted politely, a smile plastered on her face.

_Just like that poor Sansa Stark girl,_ Tyrion thought. At first Sansa had been polite and courteous to everyone, smiling elegantly and actually enjoying Joffrey's company. That was, of course, before he revealed what he and the Lannister's were truly like. _Even me._

When he arrived in the upstairs lounge, Cersei was waiting on the couch, looking impatient. She looked up when he entered, her eyes narrowing sharply as she stood quickly, brushing invisible specks of dust off her short skirt.

"I tried calling you," his sister said smoothly, sitting back down. "You didn't pick up."

"You know me and mobile phones," Tyrion joked easily, sitting down opposite of her. "I just can't seem to work them properly."

Cersei stared at him exasperatedly for a moment before sighing tiredly. "You and Jaime never did take things seriously. It was always _me_ who had to put up with everything. Even now...do you know how tiring it is to organise all this? We can't have the Starks finding out _anything_. You didn't happen to tell Arya Stark, did you?"

"Do not think so low of me, beloved sister. I didn't. And if this is tiring you so much then...don't. The Starks can find out what they will."

"And what will father say? What will everyone else say? The legacy, that's what he always talks about! Our father. He talks about as if it's more important than _us,_ his very children. And by the Starks finding out everything we will be ruining the Lannister legacy that has been created," his sister told him.

"Well aren't you Daddy's Little Princess," Tyrion quipped, smiling slyly. "Sometimes I seem to forget that you actually have a heart."

Cersei's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I don't...this Gendry boy or whatever his name is...he doesn't deserve it, obviously. Despite being one of Robert's bastards. I don't really care about that anymore."

"You did once."

There was a stony silence as they both recalled what had happened one time when Cersei had overreacted about many finding out about Robert's bastards and their hair colour.

"Jaime and I...he doesn't." Cersei paused for a moment. "I've never hated you, Tyrion."

"I'm sorry, sister, you're not my type," he told her seriously.

She rolled her eyes. "That's not what this is about. I...there's more news, supposedly. The Starks aren't the only worry we have. There's others, more than you can ever count. They're all trying to destroy us."

"Do tell," Tyrion prompted, leaning back against the couch. He was seriously craving a good strong drink.

"Stannis seems to have somehow caught wind of us. He's spreading foul rumours about us at Dragonstone. Renly seems to have caught on as well. I don't understand how, though. Sometimes I...truly believe that bloody Ned Stark might be haunting us all," Cersei explained. "Either way...it's spread like wildfire. Arya Stark hasn't pursued the will any further. She hasn't been visiting that investigator and she clearly didn't show Jon Snow the will at all...which, brings me back to another point. Jon Snow. I am...nearly certain that he is the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. It has to be. If I just get a few DNA scans..."

"By kidnapping him? Honestly, sister, even if he is...it isn't such a big worry."

Cersei stood up angrily. "It _is_. You're always bragging about how you're meant to be the smart one. If he is truly the son of Lyanna and Rhaegar...he is most definitely the rightful owner of Baratheon Corporations."

"And...he isn't even a Baratheon," Tyrion commented dryly, rolling his eyes. "Father may have his own establishment in Casterly Rock but I'm beginning to think we should just change the name to Lannister Corporation. It has a nice ring to it."

"The Targaryens...what if Daenerys knows of this? That Jon Snow is the true son? It's been suspected many times...not only by Stannis and Renly but by many others. Ned Stark...he suspected it as well. Even told me it, the idiot. If they were to marry..."

"Are you serious? Here you are talking about weddings when the two haven't even _met_!"

Cersei shook her blonde hair out of her eyes. "She's here, Tyrion. In Winterfell. What other reason would there be?"

Tyrion didn't respond and simply closed his eyes and wished that he were born into some other family. A family that wasn't a Baratheon, a Stark, a Targaryen _or_ a Lannister. _Even a Tyrell would be nice_, he thought.

* * *

"And then...oh Jon, you should've seen it! You know nothing about fireworks until you've seen the ones in Castle Black!" Ygritte was saying as she sipped her coffee.

He wasn't listening, though. Jon was distracted by everything. Arya, Gendry, everything. Even worse, when he had asked to use Gendry's laptop last night he had come across a reply to an email which revealed...well, something that he didn't want to read about. His roommate was leaving to King's Landing on an apprenticeship. He wasn't coming back, most likely. And his little sister didn't know about it.

"Are you listening?" Ygritte snapped angrily, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Sorry," Jon muttered. "Just tired." He knew he was being incredibly antisocial and he was with bloody _Ygritte_, who was quite possibly the most amazing girl he had ever happened to meet in his life. Even when she had the rather hard to understand accent she had still been beautiful. Here he was, sitting in a nice coffee shop with her and instead of focusing on the conversation he was _ignoring_ her.

She frowned at him. "Are you ever even happy? God, sometimes I wonder why you're in that band. Do you even _like_ music? Like, how did you even get in the band?"

"I told you already. My old guitar teacher suggested I form a band with Mance and all of them," Jon told her tiredly.

"Even though they're like your parents age. Yeah, I get it. Makes _perfect_ sense." Ygritte grinned at him, flashing him her crooked teeth that were still somehow amazing. "Orell keeps complainin' about you. Keeps telling me to stay away from you. That you're a crow." She frowned at him before leaning in. "What's that mean?"

"Who knows?" Jon stirred his coffee around and blew on it, trying to cool it down. "Orell can sometimes be a little weird."

"Ugh, you don't need to tell _me_. He acts so weird around me sometimes. I mean, like, c'mon? And he is _so_ bad in bed."

He couldn't help but flinch when she said that. Even though Ygritte talking about her boyfriend - who Jon _hated_ - was distracting him from Gendry and Arya it was still...nauseating to hear about it. _Like hell I wanted to know that Orell was bad in bed. Though does that mean I have a chance? _Jon snorted inwardly at his thoughts, which sounded like a thirteen year old love sick girl.

"Aye, sorry Jon." Ygritte grinned at him yet again. "Maybe we should get drunk one night. Tomorrow night. You just seem so glum and I know a bit of vodka could fix it right up. Have you ever tried Skittle vodka? Bloody hell, it's delicious. Maybe we could make that tomorrow night and just get smashed. Whatcha think, Jon?"

"Doesn't sound that good," Jon mumbled, picking up his coffee and having a sip. _It sounds fucking fantastic,_ he thought instead and it did. The idea of forgetting everything about his little sister and roommate was desirable.

"Oh well. We're doin' it anyway. Now, unfortunatly I have to go. I'll keep you updated on the whole Orell situation...oh my bloody hell, do you know...did you just get that pun? Well, it wasn't really a pun but I mean..." Ygritte winked at him. "I'll pay for your coffee. You payed for mine last time. Stay strong, Jon Snow, even if you sometimes can be a massive twat. Love you!" She blew a kiss at him exaggeratedly before dropping some money on the table and leaving.

Jon sighed loudly and continued sipping his coffee quietly, enjoying the solitude even if it meant being alone with his thoughts. _Is this how Arya felt?_ he thought sadly. _No, she probably felt a lot worse than this. All you're doing i__s worrying about a stupid relationship. They'll work something out. They're both old enough to know what they're doing, right?_

"Excuse me?" an accented voice behind him asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Jon turned to see a beautiful woman with almost pure white hair cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes looked almost purple and she was smiling widely at him, as if she had just won the lottery.

"Oh...hey," Jon replied rather awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "What can I do for you?"

"You're Jon Snow, right?" the woman questioned, easily sliding into the seat next to him where Ygritte had sat.

"Yeah...that's me." He stared at her, feeling odd. _How does she know my name? _he thought, frowning slightly.

"You can call me Dany." She flashed him a smile. "I was just wondering if I could...I know this all seems a little rushed, doesn't it? I came here specifically looking for you. It was fairly easy to find you, after all, considering your band is pretty well known through out Winterfell."

"Oh...thank you," Jon replied, smiling awkwardly and finishing off his coffee. "Would you like something to drink?"

Dany shook her head, tucking a few stray white hairs behind her ear. "No, I'm all well. Maybe you might want to order another one, however. You see, I have something incredibly important to tell you. I didn't know about this until awhile ago but..." She paused sighing. "I just...this must seem so awkward to you, yes? Of course it does. I'm just a stranger here. However, you know...Ned Stark, right?" Dany laughed slightly, shaking her head. "Of course you do. Well, his death...surely you have had your suspicions about it? Don't you want...revenge?"

"On who, exactly? Ned Stark died of stress related illness and other things. No one _murdered_ him," Jon explained calmly.

The foreign woman shook her head. "No...he was murdered...or maybe not _murdered_ but certainly killed by something that wasn't stress related." Dany sighed heavily. "You must promise not to think of me as a fool. My closest friend did...he's the one who helped me get here. Valyria is such a _long_ way away."

"I won't think any less of you," he told her honestly.

She smiled prettily at him. "Good. Well, first of all...have you heard the tale of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark?" When she looked questioningly at him he nodded quickly. "Makes things a bit easier. Well, most of it's a lie. Rhaegar didn't kidnap Lyanna. They fell in love when they met in the meeting that was said to unite the Targaryens, Baratheons, Lannisters and Starks together. It was an incredibly large meeting or so they tell me." Dany looked wistful and sad as she explained her story. "The current leader of Targaryen Corporation...or at least that was what it's called. Now it is Baratheon Corp. Anyway, the current leader...he was supposedly mad. Aerys Targaryen. He was power hungry. And then Jaime Lannister shot him in the back. Yes, we all know _that_ feat.

"How did that happen, though? Well, as you know Rhaegar supposedly kidnapped Lyanna when really, the two fell in love and ran off with each other. All the way to nice old Dorne, where no one expected them. Well, you can imagine Robert Baratheon's reaction, I suppose." Dany rolled her eyes as if they were all stupid. "He demanded Rhaegar come and explain his actions. Robert broke the terms of truce that were set up, though I suppose Rhaegar caused it. Either way, Aerys was furious. Not to mention Ned Stark got involved because of course, we help out our best friends." She paused, taking a deep breath.

Jon stared at her for a moment. Sure, he had heard the brief story of it before but never in this much detail. Ned had explained a bit to him when he was younger but he was often told to never bring it up. _What's she getting at?_ he thought, still feeling slightly awkward.

"Aerys demanded Ned's father explain for his action, as well as his brother and Jon Arryn. He was Robert's guardian, if you'd call it, at the time. Jon Arryn refused to go, suspecting Aerys might do something horrendous. However Ned's father and brother went. Some say Aerys tortured them both before they finally died, though most say he simply shot them in the back. Either way, the bodies were sent to Ned Stark..."

"I'm sorry, but I don't see exactly...where this is going..." Jon interrupted quickly. "I mean, I've heard various recounts of this story before and some in different and there's not much different about your one. Besides, you're a stranger to me...this is all a bit..." He quickly swallowed the word 'bullshit' on his tongue, knowing it would be inappropriate. _She hasn't been mean or anything. She's just some random stranger coming up to me, _he thought. Jon found it so weird, so unusual for a stranger to come up to him and start blabbing away a random story that had very little to do with him. Sure, it had affected Ned greatly but...not him.

Dany sighed, twirling a strand of her oddly coloured hair around a finger. "Well, I suppose I understand." She flashed him yet another brilliant smile. "Did Ned Stark tell you that Lyanna was kidnapped or that she went of her own free will?" she asked quietly, leaning in slightly.

"That she was kidnapped, of course," Jon replied easily. "The other stories are bullshit."

"Not this one," she told him calmly. "I suppose you know...the rest. Robert Baratheon - the fat idiot - started a stupid campaign to bring the Targaryens down. It worked due to the support of many. Even though a lot of people loved Rhaegar, they're hatred for Aerys made them loathe all of them, even Rhaegar's wife, Ellia. I suppose that was another problem but yet again, this story is too long. When this campaign was over and Rhaegar was found dead in a large underground sewerage, Ned Stark knew his sister was in Dorne. He flew all the way there. Well, Lyanna had been pregnant and...Ned promised to take care of the child and raise it to be his own when he realised his sister was dying from the childbirth." Dany stopped her story and stared at him, her violet eyes calculating and calm.

For a moment Jon simply stared at her, not quite comprehending what she had just said. _Raise it to be his own...raise it to be his own._ He didn't speak when he realised the truth and even then he didn't want to admit it._ This is impossible. This is bullshit. This woman is a stranger! _he thought furiously. Jon stood up from his seat angrily, clenching his fists.

"That's _bullshit_," he spat. "I don't believe you. You're just a stranger. Why should I care? What difference does this make?" _Why can't I just have simple problems? I'm already thinking too fucking much._

"Why would I lie?" Dany retorted easily. "I have no reason to. The reason why I am telling you this is because _you_ are the true owner of Baratheon Corporations, before known as Targaryen Corporations. _You_ should be leading it, not Joffrey Baratheon."

"Do I look like business man to you?" Jon snapped, still standing. Many people were beginning to stare but he ignored them all. "Why should I care? Joffrey is the true owner, whether I'm the son of..._them_ or not. Robert Baratheon died and left Ned Stark in his will...however he had _no_ right to. If Robert had no children _then_ he would give it to someone in his will. However, he had Joffrey."

"Joffrey isn't his child." She smirked at him slightly. "Neither are Myrcella or Tommen. They were all brought into this world by the incestuous relationship between Jaime and Cersei Lannister.

_God fucking dammit, I don't care,_ he thought furiously. "I'm leaving," Jon told her shortly, standing up. He hadn't bothered with that second coffee and now he was glad. It would have probably been used against him as a reason to stay and listen to her blab more bullshit.

Dany rose as well, albeit a lot more elegantly than him. "Forgive me if I have upset you," she said smoothly, though it was clear she knew she had. "Here is my number if you wish to call me and ask for more details. I also recommend asking your _cousin_, Arya Stark, if she has the will of Ned Stark. You may be pleasantly surprised by what is written there." She handed him a business card which he roughly took out of her hand and stormed out of the cafe.

Jon didn't stop walking until he was meters away. He had caught the bus to the small cafe though he decided then and there that he was walking. For a moment, he hesitated by the bin, holding the business card in his hand. Yet it somehow shoved itself in his pocket and he told himself fiercely that it had nothing to do with the fact that the name of the card owner was Daenerys _Targaryen_.

_Or Dany__, as she likes to be called_, he thought furiously.

* * *

The past few weeks flew so quickly by for Arya that she didn't even take notice over whether it was Thursday or Monday or weekend. She simply lived and _enjoyed _it and everything was just...going so well. About a week after she and Gendry had 'officially' begun what she supposed was a relationship, Arya had received a phone call from Bran, telling her that Catelyn was awake and she didn't remember everything. However, a few days ago, Bran had called yet again to say that their mother was slowly remembering things, even though it had only been two weeks since she awoke.

Arya had already begun planning a trip to Riverrun in a week and she had demanded that Jon and Gendry would come. Oddly enough, Gendry had seemed so entirely awkward about the whole thing that she didn't buy him a plane ticket. Yet Jon had been even worse. Lately her half-brother simply refused to speak with her rarely. It was the only thing was annoying about her life at the moment. Most of the time, Gendry was simply perfect and she loved spending time with him, except for those few times when he simply would stare sadly at her, as if she would disappear suddenly. Jon, however, was a completely different story. Sometimes he would be sad and other times he would simply storm around the house in a fury. Not to mention that both Gendry and Jon seemed to be extremely tense around one another though they refused to tell her the reasons.

Even though Jon was being a complete dickhead, she ignored it and instead focused on her own happiness. Everything was going well and everyday Arya would wake up and simply feel happy, feel _glad_ to be here and feel _happy_ to be simply...free and alive. Whenever she would hear Jon and Gendry fighting sometimes when they thought she was asleep, she would simply shove her pillow over her ears and think of better things. In the morning it would often be a lot better, though they would shoot filthy looks at each other. Arya never bothered to ask what they were about because she simply knew she didn't want to know.

She didn't wake up like that on the Monday morning which just happened to be four weeks after her and Gendry had gotten together. Arya woke up to shouting downstairs, clearly between Jon and Gendry. Their voices were raised and were obviously furious, both of them trying to be louder than the other. For a moment she thought she was dreaming as they had _never_ fought this loud before. Usually when they had fought through the past month it had been hushed hissing and whispering, both of them sounding clearly furious. Though this time, she could hear them both screaming and shouting at each other, both completely furious and not even bothering to conceal their argument from her.

"You're a fucking dickhead, you know that? Leading her on like that! Just come out and fucking say it. I checked your email, _I saw it_! Don't fucking lie!" She vaguely heard Jon shout something along those lines which confused her even more as she slipped out of bed.

_Are they talking about me?_ she thought warily.

"What about you? When were you planning on telling me you were the bloody owner of Baratheon Corporation? Or the fact that you aren't even the _bastard_ of Ned Stark!" Gendry yelled.

_What's going on? What's the time even?_ Arya thought as she huddled in the stairs, watching them fight. Their faces were so close to each others. She noticed a bruise on Jon's face and blinked. _Did Gendry punch him? What the fuck?_

"You're a fucking hypocrite. I don't care what you do but you're fucking with my sister's emotions," Jon snapped darkly. "I hate people who do that."

"Oh, but she isn't your sister, is she? _She's your cousin_."

Arya stared at them both from her spot on the stairs, confused instantly. What the hell was Gendry saying? Jon was her half-brother, not some cousin. He certainly wasn't Edmure's son. And what did her brother or cousin or whoever mean by saying Gendry was leading her on? He wasn't. They were...they were...she didn't...understand. Somehow, she found herself hurrying down the rest of the stairs and screaming at both of them.

"_Stop it, you two_!" she shouted angrily, grabbing Jon's arm and tugging him away from Gendry. "_Stop it!"_

Jon's eyes softened slightly when he saw her but he quickly wrenched out of her grip. "When were you planning on telling me about the will?" he snapped at her, his eyes darkening again. "_When_?_"_

"Are you _drunk_?" Arya asked, shocked at him. "And what are you talking about? What will?" She turned to Gendry, stunned. "What's going on?"

"He's a fucking dickhead, Arya, don't look at him like that! He's _leaving_. He's fucking _leaving_ to King's Landing even though he's probably _fucking _you and even worse, he's lied about it to me!"

"I told him to, Jon!" she yelled, exasperated. "I told him to because...why can't you just stop? You're _drunk_, Jon, _stop it_!"

He shook his head furiously and pointed a finger at Gendry. "Not until that prick admits it to you. Admits that he's a piece of shit who doesn't deserve anything near you and that he's _leaving to King's Landing in a few days_!"

She shook her head at her brother. "Stop it, Jon, you don't know what you're saying! You're drunk, so just stop it before you do something you regret!"

"He does know what he's saying," Gendry said quietly beside her.

For a moment Arya felt like her world would snap. _What's he saying? He isn't leaving, that's rubbish! Why would he leave?_

"See!" Jon snapped. "He was lying to you the whole time! I saw his email. He accepted an apprenticeship in King's Landing at some shit engineering shop!"

"You're both lying," she whispered pathetically, staring at both of them. _My brother...my cousin...I don't understand, I don't get it. What's happening? _"Let's talk about this...nicely. I mean, please, both of you, just snap out of it! What's wrong with you two?"

"I don't give a shit what you both do!" Jon shouted furiously. "I'm _leaving_! Don't fucking expect me to come back. I'm sick of both of your bullshit!" He glared at both of them for one last moment, letting Arya smell the heavy alcohol on his breath one last time before she watched her brother storm out.

She turned to face Gendry, already feeling the tears in her eyes. "Gendry..." she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Arya. I'm _so, so, so _sorry. He's right, he's right, _he's right_." His voice was filled with sadness and she could hardly understand what he was saying. "I'm leaving in a few days...I'm...I'm sorry, Arya." He reached for her, grabbing her shoulder and attempting to pull her closer to him but she shook him off.

"You're kidding," she said quietly. "You're kidding," she repeated firmly. "You're kidding, both of you are! _I'm fucking dreaming because none of this is real_!"

"I'm sorry," Gendry whispered sadly. "I'm _so_ sorry for not telling you...I couldn't. I didn't want to ruin your happiness."

Arya stared at him. "You _are_ my happiness," she said furiously, feeling the anger rising in her voice. "And now you're _leaving_! And Jon...Jon's my cousin? What the fuck were both of you saying? Did you _punch _him? I just..." Arya clutched her head desperately, trying to hold everything in. _It hurts, it hurts, everything fucking hurts! _She could feel the tears running down her face and she could barely see Gendry in front of her.

"He's Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen's son," he said, wiping his hands over his eyes. "Look, Arya, I'm...I'm sorry, please. Let's just...sort everything out, I'm sorry."

"No," she snapped. "_No_! Don't _ever_ talk to me again! I'm _leaving_. I hate you, I hate you, _I fucking hate you, Gendry Waters_!" She saw him reach for her, attempting to grab her and halt her but she ran out of the door and down the driveway, her legs going as fast as they could as the tears fell down her face.

"_Arya!_ _Please_!"

She heard him run after her but she was quicker, much quicker. It took little effort and she took off down the street, her body suddenly filled with adrenaline and anger and sadness and fury and everything and nothing at the same time. She ran, her thoughts all a mess in her head.

_"You're Arya, right?"_

_"Who else would I be?"  
_

She remembered eating pasta with him and Jon and him trying to comfort her about school and Tyrion Lannister. Because he understood.

_"I'm not a little girl!"_

_"You look like one."_

She remembered telling him briefly about how she felt even though she had only met him the same day, simply because she felt a connection, a bond. There was something about him that made her want to tell him everything. Because she trusted him the moment he introduced himself, the moment they chased each other around that couch laughing.

_"What's wrong with you?"_

_"Oh, y'know, just the __small_ fact that I _hate everyone_! I hate how _everyone's_ happy, and _I'm not_, and that everyone can deal with the shit fact that my dad's dead! I hate the fact that I wished that it was my _mum_ that was dead, not my _dad_. I hate how everyone stares at me pityingly, and goes on and on about how they _fucking understand_. I hate how Sansa went through worse than me, yet I'm the one who wants to die and just…_not do anything_. _Everyone_ has gone on with their lives and I'm just sitting here waiting for something _good_ to happen to _mine_! Everyone _tolerates _me, no one…I mean, why would they like _me_?"

She remembered blurting out her deepest darkest thoughts to him, not Jon. She had only told her brother because he had just happened to be there. It had been Gendry she was telling all that too, Gendry who she wanted to understand. Because he made her lose all control of the walls she had carefully constructed around her mind and heart in the best way possible.

_"No, I...want to be with you too, Arya Stark." _

He had lied, he had deceived her, she had trusted him with pretty much everything.

Arya collapsed onto the ground, completely ignoring her surroundings. She had no idea where she was. All she knew was that she had lost all the energy to do...anything. Her breaths were short and frantic and she clutched her chest and lay down on the footpath, not caring where she was. _I don't care, I don't care. I hate them all, I hate them all! I hate dad for dying, I hate the Lannisters for their fucking secrets, I hate Sansa for dating Joffrey, I hate Jon for being an idiot, I hate Robb and Theon for being dickheads, I hate mum for fucking getting into an accident and not remembering anything and I hate Gendry. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him._

She howled suddenly, wrapping her arms around herself and letting the tears fall down her face. Vaguely, she heard someone get out of their house and ask if she was okay. Arya couldn't hear them, though. She kept lying there until she heard the person go inside. _They're going to call someone and then he will find me and I hate him and I never...I can't..._

It took all her energy to get up and continue running again, completely ignoring her dry throat and the fact that she couldn't see that clearly due to the tears. Arya lost track of time as she ran. She knew she was nearing the edge of Winterfell, she knew she would soon be gone. _I'll go. I'll go across the Narrow Sea. I'll be no one. I won't be anyone. Forget about him, forget about him, he's a dickhead, aren't you overreacting?_ Her thoughts were a mess of various voices saying different things but she knew each one of them were still saying the same thing.

_You love him_, they all whispered.

* * *

**A/N: **So...yeah? Thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved, followed and all that stuff. I really appreciate it all and also I'd really love to hear what you think of this chapter...I'm not really big fan of it but I'd love to hear what everyone thinks. Sorry for the semi short chapter...it's kinda short.

I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to review or whatever if you want!

-Zamire


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